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"THE WIDE AND WINDING RHINE." 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS 



On the Rhine. 



A HOLIDAY TRIP OF THREE COLLEGE GIRLS THROUGH 
GERMANY, BY WAY OF THIS CELEBRATED 

TVER. 



BY 

LIZZIE W. CHAMPNEY. 



% 






ijl % 








ILLUSTRATED BY "CHAMP 


if 




AND OTHERS. 








ft AUG 23 18a&>) ' 




BOSTON: 






ESTES AND LAURIAT, PUBLISHERS. 




1887. 





' 6 



Copyright, 1886, 
By Estes and Lauriat. 






Electrotyped 
By C. J. Peters and Son, Boston. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER 

I. Delight Holmes' Journal ...<<<• 
II. Point Lace 

III. Flanders, Ghent, and Bruges 

IV. Holland . 

V. Scheveningen. — Amsterdam and Cologne. — Mr. Van Bergen, 

VI. Bonn, Coblentz, the Engel Rittergut . . . . . 
VII. A Kaffeeklatsch, and a mysterious occurrence 

VIII. The Moselle. — An Explanation 

IX. The Rhine, from Coblentz to Rudesheim. — An unexpected 

Meeting 

X. The Rheingau. — Mayence. — Several Conversations 
XI. Heidelberg. — Broken Towers and United Hearts 
XII. The Black Forest 

XIII. Strasburg. — War Memories. — Two Architects 

XIV. The Upper Rhine. — Lake Constance . 
XV. Munich 

XVI. Nuremberg. — Grief and Joy .... 



ii 

28 
40 

5i 
67 
81 

93 
103 

117 

134 
144 
162 

175 
189 
206 
220 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



" The Wide and Winding Rhine," 

Frontispiece. 
Good-bye 
Col. Boujoulac 
Myrtle 
Delight 

Mr. Van Bergen 
Dutch Traders at Manhattan 
Rubens' " Descent from the Cross,' 

in Antwerp Cathedral 
Iconoclasts . 
Rubens 

A Realist, from Couture 
Sweeping the Streets . 
The Bookworm . 
Mechlin Lace 
Hotel de Ville, Brussels 
Brussels Lace 
Waterloo 

Ruin of Hougomont . 
Dutch Boats on the Scheldt 
Hotel de Ville (Ghent) 
Van Artevelde at his door 
Mine Host of the Fleur-de-ble 
View in Bruges . 
A Confidential Chat 
Stepped Gables of Antwerp 
Wharves at Middelburg 
House in the Renaissance Style 
A Dutch Landscape 
Erasmus 

William the Silent 
A Boy in Sabots . 



ii 
12 
13 
13 
15 
17 

20 
21 
23 
25 
28 

29 
30 
3i 
33 
35 
37 
4i 
43 
45 
48 
48 
49 
5i 
52 
53 
56 
57 
60 
61 



Rembrandt 


62 


Promenade at Weimar 


63 


A Scheveningen Boy . 


67 


Views on the Beach 


68,69 


Dutch Windmill .... 


70 


Descartes at Amsterdam . 


7i 


Sketches in Holland . 


73 


Glimpse at Diisseldorf 


74 


Cathedral of Cologne . 


75 


St. Martin's . . . . 


79 


Professor Wissenschaft 


82 


In the Public Gardens at Bonn . 


83 


Godesburg . ... 


85 


In Andernach .... 


87 


Ehrenbreitstein .... 


89 


The Gnadige Frau Von Engel . 


90 


Professor Hammer 


9i 


The Countess 


92 


A German Officer 


93 




94 


The Kaffeeklatsch 


95 




97 


The Rittergut .... 


98 


The Porta Nigra .... 


99 


Miss Boylston .... 


103 


With a New Pensiveness . 


104 




107 




109 


Confidences 


no 


Berncastel 


in 


Cloister of Cathedral of Treves . 


115 


Tourists on the Rhine Steamer . 1 


18, 121 


Kaub and the Pfalz 


119 



ILL US TRA TIONS. 



Bacharach 

Beggar at Bacharach . • • 

As High as a Church Spire 

Riidesheim 

At Bingen on the Rhine 

An Unexpected Meeting . 

The Lady of the Villa 

The Walk Through the Vineyard 

Mayence 

Art Student No. i 
Art Student No. 2 

Looking at the Animals 

Heidelberg Castle, from the Terrace 

Students 

Entrance to Heidelberg Castle . 

Mailed Warriors .... 

Castle of Neckar-Steinach . 

Heidelberg Terrace . 

The Frau Professorin and her Grand 
daughter .... 

Ruins of a Castle 

A Village in the Black Forest . 

The Count 

The Colonel .... 

Peasant's House in the Black Forest 

The Postilion .... 

Ruins of the Abbey of Allerheiligen 

Dortchen 

Oberkirch ..... 

Platform of Strasburg Cathedral 
Strasburg Cathedral . 

A Street in Strasburg . 



125 
127 
128 
129 

131 
132 

135 
136 

137 
141 
142 
143 
145 
147 
149 

I5 1 
153 
155 

158 
159 
163 
165 
166 
167 
168 
169 
171 

173 
176 
177 
179 



Marguerite and Peter Schnecker 

Madame Hautcceur 

Stork's Nest 

German Soldiers 

Ancient Houses by the River 

Vauban . ' ". 

The Fern-Fancier 

City and Cathedral of Freiburg 

Peasant Knitting 

The Valley of Hell . 

Hotel de Ville, Ulm . 

Market-Place at Schaffhausen 

Bavarian Sketches 

Goatherd's Hut . 

In a Real Palace . 

Adolf 

Weissmauschen . 

Triumphal Arch, Munich . 

Castle of Unnoth 

Statue of Bavaria 

The Pinacothek . 

The Glyptothek . 

Uncle Kalbfleisch 

A Gift for the Bride . 

The Bride's Door, Nuremberg 

Weissmauschen and her Family 

An American Doll 

Nuremberg Market-Place 

The Landlady's Daughter 

The Choir of St. Sebald 

Ramparts of Nuremberg 



181 
182 

183 
184 
185 
187 
189 
191 
194 

195 

198 

199 

202 

203 

206 

207 

207 

208 

209 

211 

213 

214 

215 

219 

221 

223 

224 

225 

228 

229 

231 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



CHAPTER I. 



DELIGHT HOLMES' JOURNAL. 

Antwerp, July. 

T was a great disappointment to me that 
my father and mother could not make 
this trip to Europe with me. 

The greater part of my pleasure dur- 
ing our delightful South American jour- 
ney was due to their presence, and I do 
not think that I could have borne to 
have seen father's figure grow more indistinct 
as he waved his farewell to me from the dock, 
and the steamer carried me out into the fog, if 
the tour had been for pleasure alone. But the 
prospect of travelling with my dear friend Myr- 
tle, and of settling down for a year at a German 
University town to the study of difficult botany and microscopy, 
opened such vistas before me of future opportunities as a naturalist, 
that I yielded to mother's urging, and here I am. 

I foresee that I shall find a great deal of enjoyment in this journal. 
I shall feel that I am sharing my pleasures with my parents, since it 
is to be sent to them, and that I am coming to them for advice, 
though I shall be hardly able to receive their counsel before the occa- 
sion for which I need it shall have passed. 




GOOD-BYE. 



12 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



And first I must describe my travelling companions, and I will 
try to do so in a manner becoming the daughter of a scientist. I 
remember that father said that a naturalist must be a close observer, 
and I recall how he sat for three hours watching the habits of a 
spider. If I am to analyze plants and note their affinities, it will cer- 
tainly be good practice to begin by analyzing 
people and assigning them to their different gen- 
era and species. 

My friend Myrtle has too simple and homely a 
name; she is more like some glorious tropical 
flower. She is a Southern girl, and her father is 
Colonel Boujoulac, noted, they say, during the 
last war, as the dashing commander of the 
"Louisiana Tigers." He was wounded- in that 
desperate assault during the second day's fight 
at Gettysburg. There is nothing ferocious about 
him now, however; he is president of a railroad, 
and has a lazy but perfectly gentlemanly manner, 
as though every pursuit but that of playing cards 
were too laborious an exertion to be thought of. 

During our college days, Myrtle was a special 
student, paying particular attention to modern 
languages and music. My best friend, Victoria, 
did not greatly care for her, though I loved her 
dearly. It has been said that triangular friend- 
ships are hard to manage. Affection cannot be distributed between 
three people in just the same measure. 

While Victoria went with us to South America, Mvrtle was hanpf- 
ing over her mother's sick-bed. I think the death of Mrs. Boujoulac 
has made a great change in Myrtle, and that she is now filled with 
the noble ambition of being everything to her father. Victoria 
so full of energy herself, and has accomplished so much since>g A 




COL. BOUJOULAC. 



DELIGHT HOLMES' JOURNAL. 



13 



graduation, in the study of medicine in Zurich, and its practice among 
the poor cholera-smitten people of Naples, that Myrtle suffers in 
comparison, but I cannot help 
thinking that there are grand pos- 
sibilities in Mvrtle. I remember 
that, when this tour was first men- 
tioned, she said she felt her father 
needed it. I thought at the time 
that perhaps he had fallen into 
melancholy since his wife's death, 
or that he was out of health; he 
seems, however, very well, and 
even gay, and I cannot quite 
account for the anxious look 
which Myrtle occasionally gives 
him. Two girls 




WwmtfM 



MYRTLE. 




r 



could not differ more than Myrtle Boujoulac and I. 
She is fascinating, brave, and extravagantly gener- 
ous. I am insignificant, and have only one talent, 
my father's, for work. I am what the college slang 
calls " a regular dig." Myrtle, though scarcely a 
year my senior, looks a woman; she dresses al- 
ways elegantly. Whether in many-ruffled white 
muslins, or fashionable close-fitting costumes, there 
is always a certain touch of style which is more than 
that given by the dressmaker. Some one has said 
that she could make any dress fashionable by wear- 
ing it, while I am always the same commonplace 
individual in the prettiest costume. I confess, how- 
ever, that I do not like to study effects of dress. 
y travelling suit is a cloth jacket, with pleated skirt, hair drawn 
back, and a Scotch cap. I shall be comfortable, but not 
is. 



DELIGHT. 



H 



THREE VASSAR GTRLS ON THE RHINE. 



After a glimpse at the Netherlands we expect to be joined at 
Cologne by a Miss Boylston, also a Vassar graduate, and a friend to 
my friend Maud Van Vechten. One good thing about Vassar friend- 
ships is that they make a chain of good fellowship extending all 
around the world. Maud passes me on to this friend of hers, whom 
I have never seen, but who is sure to be kind to me for Maud's and 
Vassar's sake, and who will be very useful to us, for she has been 
studying music in different parts of Germany for the past three or 
four years. We have another friend waiting our arrival, in Myrtle's 
brother Joe, who is a student at the University of Bonn. 

We left New York the 30th of June, on the Red Star steamer 

" land," bound for Antwerp. I think we were first attracted to 

this steamer by a set of decorations in the cabin, made by a company 
of artists which crossed upon it one season. We had no reason to re- 
gret our choice, for these paintings were a source of continual com- 
fort and inspiration to us. In the stormy weather, which pursued us 
nearly all the way across the Atlantic, we were obliged to keep the 
cabin and devote ourselves, — Myrtle to Kensington embroidery, and 
I to Motley's " Rise of the Dutch Republic." I began by reading 
aloud all the interesting passages, and finished by becoming the 
centre of a little group of ladies, and by reading every bit to them, 
and the "United Netherlands" as well. It was a good preparation for 
what we were to see of Belgium and Holland before beginning our 
voyage up the classic river Rhine, and the sketches about us gave 
rein to the imagination, for they were chiefly foretastes of what we 
were to see; heads of peasants, windmills, and spires of distant cathe- 
drals. There was one ruined castle of which Myrtle w r as particu- 
larly fond. It seemed familiar to her, as though she had seen it in a 
dream, she said, or lived in it in some previous state of existence 
" I am sure that it is connected with my fate in some way," she f ith 
say. "Something remarkable either has happened or w T ill hap ^s 
me there." I pooh-poohed the notion. "You have seen a phot*,^ " lj 



DELIGHT HOLMES 1 JOURNAL. 



*5 



Hy 



of it somewhere," I explained, "and the memory haunts you. Either 
that is it, or it strikes your fancy as what a Rhine castle ought to be. 
Ruins are very conventional; they all hold to a general fashion, a 
dungeon-keep half overgrown with ivy, a few cart-loads of rubbish at 
the foot, a grass-grown moat, a liberal supply of moonlight, and a 
trifle of river, and there you are." 

I delivered this recipe for a castle very confidently, for I had never 
seen one, — and one's assurance about anything is generally in exact 
proportion to one's ignorance. My raillery made no impression upon 
Myrtle; she continued to regard her castle with a pensive air, which 
was almost depressing. It did not occur to me at the time that she 
had some other cause for melancholy which was hiding itself in this 
picturesque ruin. I noticed that each morning she invited her father 
to listen to the reading. Sometimes he lingered for a few moments, 
but after a time he was sure to fin«er 
his cigar-case, and soon after he 
would beat a precipitate retreat for 
the smoking-room. When we went 
on deck for our constitutional just be- 
fore lunch, we would see him playing 
innumerable games of poker with 



other gentlemen of like tastes. His 
partner was usually a dark Jewish- 
looking man, for whom Myrtle had 
contracted a strong antipathy, though 
he was perfectly polite and gentle- 
manly, both in his behavior to her, 
and, as far as I could judge, to every one. He professes to be a dia- 
mond-cutter from Amsterdam. He came to America on business 
ected with the diamond exhibit made at the Centennial, and was 
tr nuch pleased with our country that this is his first return trip to 
s native country. He gave his name as Solomon Van Bergen, and 




MR. VAN BERGEN. 



1 6 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

said that he was a descendant of Louis Van Berguen of Bruges, who 
discovered the art of cutting diamonds, in the fifteenth century. One 
evening the chat turned upon precious stones, and Colonel Boujoulac 
asked Myrtle to show her mother's diamond cross. I shall never for- 
get the expression of Mr. Van Bergen's face when the jewels were laid 
in his hand; admiration, greed, and a malicious cunning seemed united 
in that first glance. When he spoke, however, it was only to disparage 
the stones, which he said were not of the first water, though it would 
improve them greatly to be reset, as the clumsy old silver settings were 
not calculated to show off their lustre. He offered to direct Colonel 
Boujoulac to a responsible house where they could be remounted, 
and that gentleman seemed inclined to consider his offer; but M}'rtle 
expressed herself afterwards as violently opposed to having them 
touched. I think she suspected Mr. Van Bergen of designs upon her 
diamonds, and that her dislike for the man dated from the look which 
he gave the cross when it first flashed upon him from its worn mo- 
rocco case. Be this as it may, we bade good-bye to the diamond- 
cutter when the ship touched at Antwerp, and are not likely to meet 
him again, for he has gone directly on to Amsterdam, and we are r 
loitering in this strange old town. As we steamed up the river \ 
Scheldt, lined with shipping, we were reminded of the almost fabu- 
lous stories told of Dutch commerce in the days of Charles V., when 
two thousand five hundred ships could be counted at one time upon 
the river, bound to and from Arabia, Persia, India, Africa, and all * 
parts of the then civilized globe. A little country, like England, tie L 
Netherlands spread itself, in its colonies and trading-posts, in the L 
East and West Indies, and in North and South America. How L 
much of sturdy healthfulness we owe the Dutch stock. The aristo- 1 
cratic names of New York and Albany, and many excellent Dutch I 
characteristics in our own people, are our inheritance from this enter- c 
prising and thrifty nation. 

What though the discoveries and settlements of the Dutch v )<Ti ~ 



('life ,) tf^SuJbl 




it 

M 






mmttt-'f 



J 



DELIGHT HOLMES' JOURNAL. \ Q, 

made by the spirit of trade rather than that of adventure or conquest. 
These honest merchants, in their peaceable, prosaic lives, are more to 
be honored than the robbers and murderers of more glorious name, 
whose deeds are notorious in history. I for one am proud of our 
Dutch ancestry, and think the wealth and comfort attained by quiet 
industry hy no means to be despised. 

We found at the hotel a letter from Myrtle's brother Joe, intro- 
ducing a friend, a certain Max Blumenthal, a young German, now 
studying art at the Antwerp Academy, who presently called upon 
us and took us to see the cathedral, which is one of the most beauti- 
ful in Europe. It has a Gothic spire four hundred feet high, covered 
with lace-like carving, and a magnificent chime of ninety-nine bells. 
It is said that the smallest bell is only fifteen inches in diameter, 
while the largest weighs eight tons. Mr. Blumenthal, who has lived 
for several years under the shadow of the cathedral spire, seems to 
love it as though it were a human being. He speaks English well 
for a German who has never been in England or America, and he 
gave us many interesting details in regard to the history of the cathe- 
dral. He says that in the 16th century it was far more beautiful than 
now. Then it boasted man}' sculptured saints in niches ornamented 
with intricate tracery of fruit, and flower, and beasts, and griffins, with 
effigies of crusaders in their armor, and gorgeous stained-glass win- 
dows. The banners of the nobility were suspended from the roof, 
and the altars blazed with gold and silver, but in 1564 occurred the 
revolt of the Gueux, or the Beggars. The rabble were at work 
everywhere, climbing over the altars, throwing down the images, 
mutilating and breaking them, and treading them under foot. Shoes 
w r ere greased with the sacred oil, the windows were shattered, and 
havoc and ruin reigned. 

" It almost makes me to be angry with the Protestant religion," 
Max Blumenthal said, " when I remember to myself what art has 
lost through those crazy fellows." 



20 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



"They were crazed indeed," Myrtle replied; "but when you think 
of the cause, of the atrocities of the inquisition which Philip of Spain 
had established here, and of which these images were the representa- 
tives, I think we can but admire the principle of religious liberty 

which lay behind the 
mad deeds of the Icon- 
oclasts or Image-break- 
ers." 

The young man lis- 
tened gravely. " You 
axe. -properly right " (he 
meant probably), he 
said. " You have made 
me to think of it in a 
new light. I find I 
look too much at the 
outside of things; I 
need some one to teach 
me what they shall all 
mean. Still, it was a 
pity to break those so 
glorious windows. I 
could not have per- 
suaded with myself to 
do it." 




" Yes, it was a 



RUBENS "DESCENT FROM THE CROSS, 
IN ANTWERP CATHEDRAL. 



pity," Myrtle admitted, 
" but nearly every re- 
form is ushered in by a convulsion; and if it had not been for the de- 
termined spirit of the Netherlanders, Protestantism would have been 
extinguished." 

He led us to the great picture of the cathedral, one of the great 




ICONOCLASTS. 



DELIGHT HOLMES' JOURNAL. 



2 3 



paintings of Europe — the " Descent from the Cross," by Rubens. It 
has been called " the grandest picture in the world, for composition, 
drawing, and coloring." We stood before it for some time in a sort 




RUBENS. 



of painful trance, it was so terribly life-like, the disciples and women 
so absorbed in their sad task. The white sheet into which the body 
is being lowered seemed to shed a reflected light across the anxious, 
sorrowful faces, and the pallid features of the murdered Christ. 
Myrtle, below her breath, repeated the lines, — 



24 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

" ' Remit the anguish of that lighted stare ; 

Close those wan lips ! let that thorn-wounded brow 
Stream not with blood.' " 

Mr. Blumenthal told us of the two peasants who paused before the 
picture, one remaining entranced so long that the other pulled him 
along. " Hush! " replied the first, " wait till they get him downP 

Mr. Blumenthal is an enthusiastic admirer of Rubens, and in the 
afternoon we went with him to the Museum or Picture Gallery, to 
see other masterpieces by this celebrated painter. Certainly he was 
a great colorist, but I do not admire the type of women which he 
loved to represent. He was twice married ; his first wife was Isabella 
Brant, and his second, Helena Formann. He painted them so often 
that it is said that the face of no painter's wife is so familiar to the 
world as are the faces of these two women. They were both fair, 
obese beauties, buxom and kindly, but unintellectual and gross. 
Rubens was one of the few artists who was splendidly successful 
during his lifetime. His genius was fully recognized by his contem- 
poraries; he was rich and honored, and was several times sent upon 
diplomatic embassies to foreign countries. He is identified closely 
with Antwerp, though he was born in Westphalia, in 1577, and lived 
much in Italy, in Spain, and in France, where he left the wonderful 
pictures painted for Marie de Medicis. He was a handsome man, 
and the courtier's dress became him, " the great flapping hat, slightly 
cocked to one side," and the lace collar worn over sumptuous velvet. 
What would have been dandyism in a lesser man, was redeemed by 
his genius; we would not wish to imagine Rubens in modern dress, 
and, on the other hand, I think there are few 19th century men who 
could wear such a costume as he wore. 

The Antwerp Gallery is rich, not only in paintings by Rubens, 
but also in Van Dycks. Van D} T ck was born in Antwerp, and was a 
pupil of Rubens, but most of his portraits are in England, where he 
was court painter for Charles I. 



::■'■ ■„.« :■ ■;■■ ■■■ ■■ ■. : . ■ ■ . ■■ ■■.■.■ ■'...■'" " ..... 




A REALIST, FROM COUTURE. 



DELIGHT HOLMES' JOURNAL. 27 

We were much interested in the student life at the old Art Acad- 
emy of Antwerp. The building was long ago a monastery, and its 
dreary corridors are paved with the monumental stones of the pious 
departed, and are to-day lightly trodden under foot by the careless 
students. I was surprised to learn that there are as many as fifteen 
hundred following the various branches of art instruction. Mr. Blu- 
menthal said it was rare to find in Antwerp a person who, during 
some part of his life, had not attended the Academy* a greater part 
of the students, however, do not advance beyond the copying depart- 
ment. 

" The Academy," he explained in his odd, foreign English, " does 
not undertake to make to be artists of its students, but only to teach 
them sometime to draw. Most of the fellows are realists, studying 
the form and the color for themselve simply, and justly as much 
interested in the still life — a cabbage, a handful of onions, or a head 
of swine — as in the most beautiful creation of the antique. Compo- 
sition shall be studied later, and the imagination will have full play 
by and by, but at present we are learning the A B C of art." 

Many of the most distinguished artists of the age, both in our own 
country and in England, have studied here, and the first prizes have 
been frequently carried off by Americans. It is a pity that women 
are not admitted, as at The Hague, where Vassar girls have won 
honor. 

We shall see more of Antwerp and of Mr. Blumenthal later on, 
but Colonel Boujoulac wishes us to make a few excursions in Bel- 
gium before leaving for Holland and the Rhine; so to-morrow we 
leave for a short visit at Mechlin and Brussels. 



28 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



CHAPTER II. 



POINT LACE. 




SWEEPING THE STREETS. 



I HAVE said nothing of the architecture of the Netherlands, the 
quaint old houses with stepped gables, as though the weather- 
cocks were fond of going up and down stairs, the toppling appear- 
ance of the fronts owing to upper stories being built out a little 
beyond the lower, the numerous small-paned windows, and the 
extreme neatness everywhere. They say that Holland is cleaner 
still, but I do not see how that can be possible. We left Antwerp in 
the early morning, and the women were out busily sweeping the 
streets, a kind of broom-drill which would not be popular at home. 

Mechlin is only fourteen miles from Antwerp, and the journey 
was quickly made. We spent the morning looking about the city. 



POINT LACE. 



2 9 




Myrtle has an amateur photographic outfit which we unpacked at 
Antwerp, and are having great sport in using. It is instantaneous in 
its action, and we take people moving about, talking, gesticulating, 
as easily as when posed 
for a portrait. It is all 
boxed up in a neat little 
case, which has a very 
innocent look. We touch 
a spring, and we have a 
portrait without once ex- 
citing the subject's suspi- 
cions. While waiting for 
luncheon, we took an 
old gentleman deeply en- 
gaged in reading a book, 
and several passers on the 
street, some in wooden 

shoes, Brabant peasants, the old women with fine lace caps, with long 
ear-tabs, giving them the appearance of rabbits. Myrtle bought one 
of these caps in a store, it was so odd and picturesque. We saw some 
of the famous Mechlin lace, said to be the prettiest and lightest in the 
world, but we were told that it is no longer so fashionable as when 
Queen Elizabeth had her ruffs made of Mechlin, and Charles I. his 
falling collars. It is a pillow lace, made by winding bobbins of 
thread around needles set in the pillow in the required pattern; it is 
simple and not so expensive as Brussels lace, which has usurped its 
place. Myrtle liked it so much that she bought a large piece and 
generously gave half to me. The shop-girl kept assuring us that it 
was snaeperig and doddrig. I have heard these words so often from 
Dutch girls, that I am positive they mean " lovely " and " too sweet 
for anything," but I am not quite sure which is which. I am con- 
firmed in my belief about these expressions, for I remember hearing 



THE BOOKWORM. 



3o 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



one of the art students at the gallery say to a friend that Myrtle was 
a " snaeperig maedel mit een doddrig gesichtye." Maedel I know 

means girl, and gesichtye face. I feel 




^fSS^y We saw some lace bleaching in the 

PiMtfW&i little shopkeeper's yard. The Colonel 
I was looking at it thoughtfully, and I 
asked him of what he was thinking. 
He started. " It was preaching me a 
ttle sermon," he said. 

" ' The stained web which whitens in the sun 
Grows pure by being purely shone upon.' 



was thinking of those lines, and of 
very good I am becoming in the 
society of two such angelic young be- 
ings as yourself and my daughter." 

His words were light, but I am sure 
that there was real feeling there at first. 
The Colonel seems to me more than ever attentive and indulgent 
to Myrtle, and I think that she is heartily glad that there is no Mr. 
Van Bergen here to wile him away to endless games of poker. 

We found Mechlin so dull and sleepy that we took the afternoon 
train to Brussels, where there was far more to interest us. First, the 
beautiful Hotel de Ville, with its forty-windowed front, without 
counting the eighty dormers. We entered the historic States Cham- 
ber, with its old portraits and tapestry, a room in which it is mistak- 
enly said Charles V. abdicted in favor of his son, Philip II. Motley 
says of the building, " Nearly in the heart of the city rose the auda- 
cious and exquisitely embroidered tower of the town-house, a miracle 
of needlework in stone, rivalling in its intricate carving the cobweb 




MECHLIN LACE. 



POINT LACE. 



31 




HOTEL DE VILLE, BRUSSELS. 



tracery of that lace which has for centuries been synonymous with 
the city, and rearing itself above a facade of profusely decorated and 
brocaded architecture." 



3 2 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



It was in the Grand Place of Brussels, before the Hotel de Ville, 
that on the 5th of June, 1568, Counts Egmont and Horn were exe- 
cuted by the orders of the cruel Duke of Alva, and his master 
Philip II. 

One feature peculiar to Brussels is the placing of little clocks at 
the street corners. We found this very convenient. Myrtle, who 
possesses a woman's fondness for shopping, was warned by one of 
these clocks that we were spending too much time in this spot of 
gloomy memories, and dragged me away in her search for a lace 
fichu. There are a hundred and forty establishments in the city for 
the manufacture of lace, so that our choice was a wide one. Luckily, 
Myrtle was able to content herself after a visit to five. Many of the 
pieces shown us were real works of art. We were told that the 
thread is made from Brabant flax, and is spun underground, for it is 
of such wonderful fineness that the least breath of wind will break 
it. We were given magnifying glasses, through which to view the 
lace, for some of the meshes were so delicate as to try the strongest 
eyesight. Brussels lace is not made all in one piece, but is composed 
of hundreds of bits, some worked by the needle and others on the 
pillow, and united by an invisible stitch. The flowers are often 
" applied," and the borders are especially rich and beautiful. The 
lady in charge told us that as many as sixty different hands had been 
employed on one scarf which she showed us, but that the general 
design was known only to one person. Myrtle's fingers gloated over 
this exquisite piece of work. "What is the price?" she asked in a 
quiet way, which seemed to say, " No matter what it is, I must 
have it." 

" Two hondert and feefty dollars, madame. I do assure you it is 
ferry sheep." 

" I will take it," Myrtle replied, calmly. 

The Colonel whistled. "Isn't that rather extravagant?" he 
asked. 



POINT LACE. 



33 



" But, papa," Myrtle replied, " I certainly have something for the 
money, while the three hundred you lost to Mr. Van Bergen gave 
you nothing but the satisfaction of having been beaten in playing 
your favorite game." 

The Colonel elevated his eyebrows and paid for the scarf without 
further parley. It is the first time that Myrtle has made any allusion 




BRUSSELS LACE. 



to this subject, and I never suspected that the Colonel played for 
money. Is it possible that my dear friend's father is a gambler? I 
cannot believe it. It is a terrible weakness, a disease to which he is 
subject, and it accounts for Myrtle's anxiety and melancholy. How 

will it all end? 

Later. 

Last evening we spent at the Weirtz Gallery, a collection of 
paintings by an eccentric painter; many of these are " trompes-l'oeil," 



34 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



or deceptions, so cleverly managed that, although you are expecting 
them, you are sure to be deceived. For instance, while you are 
walking soberly along looking at the pictures which purport to be 
pictures, you pass a half-open door; curiosity invariably makes you 
give a glance over your shoulder as you go by, and in the adjoining 
apartment you are shocked to see some one dressing. You turn by 
an impulse of charity to close the door, and find that what you had 
taken for a view into another room is only a clever painting. Some 
of the pictures, notably the visions of a condemned man, a suicide, 
and the awakening of a man buried alive, are startling in the ex- 
treme. The painter had a genius beyond trickery, as well as for it. 

We did not neglect the cathedral of Brussels with its magnificent 
facade and its beautiful interior, whose most notable objects are 
twelve splendid statues of the apostles, and the pulpit, the finest piece 
of wood-carving I ever saw. It represents Adam and Eve driven 
from Paradise. The figures support a globe in which the preacher 
stands. 

After a night's rest, we set out early this morning for a drive to 
the battle-field of Waterloo, by way of the Forest of Soignies, to the 
village of Mont St. Jean, where a mound has been raised, on which 
stands the Lion of Waterloo. This colossal beast was cast from 
cannon taken from the French. From its base a fine view is obtained 
of the battle-field in which the " Iron Duke " crushed the first Napo- 
leon. A little boy came up to us and tried to sell us some relics, 
buttons and bits of cloth. Colonel Boujoulac looked at them reflec- 
tively and gave the boy a coin, but declined to take his wares. " I 
suppose some day that pedlers at Gettysburg will be hawking the 
bones of my comrades," he said, sadly. 

" I do not think you need waste any sentiment, papa," Myrtle 
remarked; " I am sure that these are manufactured relics, of a much 
later date than 1815." 

Guide-book in hand, we followed the Colonel from one farm- 




WATERLOO. 



POINT LACE. 



37 



house to another, striving to understand the topography of this most 
famous and decisive battle of modern times. 

" If I had had ' the Tigers ' here, Napoleon need not have given 
in," said the Colonel; "we had a great deal harder row to hoe at 
Breed's Hill," and then we went over the different positions of 
Marshal Ney and Blucher. The enthusiasm of the old campaigner 
kindled at the famous reply of the Old Guard to Wellington's de- 




RUIN OF HOUGOMONT. 



mand of surrender as he saw it being annihilated. " The Guard 
dies, but never surrenders." 

We walked through the park and about the ruins of the chateau of 
Hougomont, where nearly six thousand men were killed, and were 
shown the spot where the fires were extinguished just at the feet of 
a little image of the Virgin. To me it all seemed very sad, and I am 
sure that no nation ought to call itself civilized as long as war exists; 
but the Colonel was in his element, and declared that this was the 
most enjoyable day he had spent on European soil. 



38 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

As we rode back toward Brussels, we were all a little silent, 
Myrtle and I from exhaustion, but the Colonel was thinking deeply. 
The sun had set, and twilight was drawing its veil across the land- 
scape, when he spoke: — 

"Myrtle," he said, "we have each our Waterloo to fight; mine is 
my love of gaming, yours is our family trait, extravagance. I have 
something serious to say, and I am quite willing that your friend 
should hear it. It startles me to see you spend money as you did 
yesterday; not that I cannot afford to give you the point-lace scarf, 
but because nearly all the Boujoulacs have been spendthrifts; five 
times they have married fortunes and run through with them. My 
father was an exception; he left me an ample estate, which has been 
much crippled by the war, it is true, but is still, as you know, enough 
even for my expensive tastes for occasional play. I have the passion 
under strong control. I set aside each year the sum which I can 
afford to lose, and I never go beyond it. It is my only extravagance. 
It seemed to me that we had outlived our family danger, and that I 
might allow myself this indulgence. But I have watched you closely 
of late, and I am convinced that the mania for unbridled expenditure 
will be for you a besetting and life-long temptation. Now, I w r ant to 
make a fair bargain with you. I will give you a liberal allowance; 
if you will keep strictly within it, and will render an exact account 
of your expenses, I will give up cards." 

A wave of great delight swept over Myrtle's face. We were 
quite alone in the coach, and she sprang from her seat and threw her 
arms about her father's neck. One would have thought that, instead 
of having been reproached for a weakness, she had achieved a 
triumph. Could it be that her wild extravagance was only assumed 
to effect this very end? I was not sure, but it looked like it. 

" I accept the conditions," she cried, joyfully, " and Delight shall 
be witness to our agreement. You shall see how economical I can be. 
And, papa, if I think you are in danger, I will wear my Brussels scarf." 



POINT LACE. 



39 



" And if that does not have the desired effect," replied the 
Colonel, "launch into extravagance again, and the fear that you may 
be yielding to our family curse will bring me to my senses." 

So ended our visit to Brussels. We have returned to Antwerp, 
only to start to-morrow on an excursion to East and West Flanders 
as represented by the old towns of Bruges and Ghent. 



40 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



CHAPTER III. 

FLANDERS, GHENT, AND BRUGES. 

WE found Mr. Blumenthal at our hotel on our return to Ant- 
werp. He had made arrangements with his instructors for a 
little vacation, and offered to be our guide on our trip to Flanders. 
Of course we were very glad to accept his services, as he knows 
the language thoroughly, and has made the trip before. He brought 
his sketching materials with him, and has been making sketches 
for Myrtle all the way. Myrtle is in high spirits. I think she is 
greatly encouraged about her father. They love each other dearly, 
and I am sure the Colonel would do anything for the sake of his 
daughter. 

Yesterday was a fete day at Antwerp, and in the evening there 
were fire-works on the Scheldt, a " nuit Venitienne " it was called. 
A pontoon bridge was laid across the river, and marine mines were 
exploded; all the shipping was decorated with flags and lanterns. 
Bengal lights were burned, which threw their bright reflections in 
long masses of brilliant wavy color upon the water, and gay boating 
parties rowed up and down. Mr. Blumenthal invited us to see the 
spectacle from a little steam yacht manned by some of the art stu- 
dents in historical costumes of the time of Charles V. The students 
had very good voices, and sang, as we glided along the magical river, 
student songs and bits from the popular operas. It was like fairy- 
land. To-day the scene has changed, and in prosaic daylight we 
have been speeding over the peaceful country to this most matter-of- 
fact city of Ghent. And yet even here there is a certain atmosphere 




DUTCH BOATS ON THE SCHELDT. 



FLANDERS, GHENT, AND BRUGES. 



43 



of quaintness and unreality. The medieval architecture carries us 
back into the old days. We can see the Hotel de Ville or City Hall 
from our window, and Myrtle has just taken up Motley to read his 
description of the city: — 




HOTEL DE VILLE. 



" Placed in the midst of cultivated fields, Ghent was surrounded 
by strong walls, — its churches and other public buildings w 7 ere 
numerous and splendid. The sumptuous church of St. John or St. 
Bavon, where Charles V. had been baptized; the ancient castle 
whither Baldwin Bras de Fer had brought the daughter of Charles 
the Bald; the City Hall, with its graceful Moorish front; the well- 



44 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



known belfry, where for three centuries had perched the dragon, 
sent by the Emperor Baldwin of Flanders, from Constantinople, and 
where swung the famous Roland, whose iron tongue had called the 
citizens generation after generation to arms, — were all celebrated in 
the land. Especially the great bell was the object of the burghers 
affection and generally of the sovereign's hatred." 

The belfry is one of the most remarkable buildings in Ghent; it 
is a square tower surmounted by an octagonal campanile. We 
mounted to the summit and enjoyed a beautiful view of the cit}^ 
We heard the chime of forty bells and saw the great one said to be 
Roland, though its refounding has erased the famous inscription, — 
" Myn naem is Roeland; als ick kliftfte, dan isH brand; als ich 
luyde, ist victoire in VlaenderlandP — "My name is Roland; 
when I toll there is fire; when I ring there is victory in Flanders." 

No wonder that Charles V. included Roland in his tyrannical pun- 
ishment of the men of Ghent for their love of liberty. " How it 
brings it all back," said Myrtle, as we stood within the belfry; "just 
as it did to Longfellow. You remember how it seemed to him that 

" ' — again the whiskered Spaniard all the land with terror smote ; 
And again the wild alarum sounded from the tocsin's throat ; 

Till the bell of Ghent responded o'er lagoon and dike of sand, 
I am Roland ! I am Roland ! there is victory in the land ! ' " 

Mr. Blumenthal shook his head. " You have a lifely imagina- 
tion," he said. " It is easy to say you see it all, but if you were to 
paint all that, you would have much trouble to make those cos- 
tumes right; and then the composition, to bring in the figures in 
an artistic manner, the lesser subordinate to the important ones. I 
think I would rather be a painter of portraits." 

" No doubt," Myrtle replied, " a single head is easier than a battle 
piece, but what is one a painter for if not to attempt grand subjects? 




VAN ARTEVELDE AT HIS DOOR. 



FLANDERS, GHENT, AND BRUGES. 47 

And the history of the Netherlands is full of them. There is the 
Battle of the Spurs of Gold, away back in 1302, when under the walls 
of Courtrai the Flemish routed the flower of the French chivalry. 
Think! seven hundred gilded spurs were picked up after the battle, 
proving that as many foreign knights had been slain. Then we come 
down to 1337, and James Van Artevelde, the doughty burgher who 
lived here in Ghent, and successfully defied the King of France. 
The Low Countries occupy such a little place upon the map, it 
would seem to have been so easy for France to have swallowed 
them up; and yet maintained such a sturdy independence all through 
their history, that we cannot help awarding their people a great 
respect." 

Mr. Blumenthal looked at Myrtle admiringly. "How can it be?" 
he said; "you are a stranger to this country, and yet you are more 
acquainted to its history as I. You make me feel as if only great 
deeds were worth painting. I must think to what you have said." 

Something in his look has made me think, — Myrtle does not sus- 
pect it, "but, if I am not mistaken, this gentle art student is quietly 
losing his heart to her. It is a great pity, for Myrtle hates to be dis- 
agreeable to any one, but Mr. Blumenthal's broken English is some- 
times so absurd, especially when he is very much in earnest, that I 
am sure that if he should propose to Myrtle she would laugh out- 
right. Think of his saying, " Fraulein Boujoulac, you have inspired 
to me a feeling which I know not to express. Fraulein Boujoulac, I 
lay my heart to your foots; I beseech at you to pick him up." Dear 
me! it is too preposterous! but I see it coming. 

Bruges. 
We left Ghent yesterday, visiting first, of course, the market-place 
and the cathedral, the chateau of the old counts, and Artevelde's 
statue. We remembered that the city was noted for its weaving, 
and went to see some rare old Dutch tapestries. A small piece 
which would have made a handsome portiere was offered at a low 



4« 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



price to 
"No, I 



Myrtle, and I expected to see her purchase it, but she said, 
must keep within my allowance," and then she exchanged 

such a look of loving trust with her 
father as was worth all the tapestries 
of Flanders. 

When the Colonel asked us to 
choose a hotel from the guide-book, 
we spoke for the one in which Long- 
fellow's Carillon was written. 

" Thus dreamed I as by night I lay 
In Bruges, at the Fleur-de-Ble." 




MINE HOST OF THE 
FLEUR-DE-BLE. 



We were met by an unpoetic but 
jolly landlord, who made us com- 
fortable in a homely, simple fashion; 

we heard the chimes in the night as Longfellow did. The city of 

bridges, as its name implies, is built 

along a number of canals. One of 

of these we followed into the coun- 
try this morning, and picnicked near 

a picturesque windmill, which Mr. 

Blumenthal sketched for us. We 

bought some cream cheese and 

strawberries of a peasant, which 

eked out the luncheon we had 

brought from the city. 

After luncheon the Colonel 

mounted to the top of the windmill 

for a view, and I took out one of 

Constant's stories of early times in the 

Netherlands, and, seating myself under a willow, was soon absorbed 

in the exciting tale. As I finished a chapter I happened to look up. 




VIEW IN BRUGES. 



FLANDERS, GHENT, AND BRUGES. 



49 



Mr. Blumenthal was seated opposite me on the bank of the canal, 

but he did not see me; his mane of light hair was tossed back and he 

was talking to Myrtle. 

" I believe," he said, 

" that I have more talent 

than I have suspected; 

you have inspired to me 

a feeling which I know 

not to express." I start- 



ed; these were exactly 
the words with which I 
had imagined he would 
begin his declaration; 
had it come ? How em- 
barrassing for me to 
overhear it. I coughed, 
but he went on. " I be- 
lieve }'du could make of 
me a great painter. I have the dexterity, the technique. It is for 
your friendship to inspire me with the soul, the motive. Will you 
do this?" 

"The impudence!" I thought to myself; "he asks her 'in the 
coolest way to devote her life to making him a genius. He is all 
wrapped up in self, and only cares for Myrtle because she 
can be useful to him." Something of this Myrtle must have felt, 
for, though her tone and manner were kindly, this was what she 
said, — 

" I think, Mr. Blumenthal, that what you ask is hardly possible. 
Each of us is surely a complete being, with a mission of our own. 
Your inspiration will come, if you labor for it; and as for me, I must 
strive to find some means of expression for my own thoughts, some 
work that shall be all my own." 




A CONFIDENTIAL CHAT. 



5° 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



I felt that the situation must be now a little awkward for them 
both, and I came to their relief. This afternoon we are going to the 
picture gallery to see the Van Eycks and Memlings, and then good- 
bye to Bruges and the Fleur-de-Ble. 



HOLLAND. 



5 1 



CHAPTER IV. 



HOLLAND. 




STEPPED GABLES OF ANTWERP. 



A WEEK has passed since I made the last entry in my journal, 
and we are now at Rotterdam. We left Mr. Blumenthal at 
Bruges, to go back to the stepped gables of Antwerp, and continued 
our journey to Middelburg, on the island of Walcheren. It is a curi- 
ous old town, with a highly ornamented town hall, an abbey, and 
many queer old houses. The wharves here, as in most of the Dutch 
ports, run up into the city. Indeed it is difficult to tell whether land 
or water predominates. Holland has fought a hand-to-hand battle 



52 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



with the ocean for centuries. The land seems a mere frino-e with 
gulfs and bays extending into it from the ocean, and the Rhine, the 
Scheldt, and the Meuse breaking through it on their way to the sea. 
In many places the land is lower than the sea at high tide, and 
defended at enormous expense and labor by dikes; these necessitate 
constant repairs, and have from time to time been broken and the 
country ravaged by tremendous inundations. But the battle goes 




WHARVES AT MIDDELBURG. 



on, and the Hollanders are gaining on the water, for the rivers 
bring down quantities of mud and sand, which they deposit at their 
mouths; and the Hollanders, with the help of an army of windmills, 
are pumping dry their lakes and swamps, walling in and filling up 
bays, so that more land is made every year. We sailed along part of 
the time through islands which we threaded by means of canals so 
narrow that the steamer seemed to be passing over the ground. 




HOUSE IN THE RENAISSANCE STYLE. 



HOLLAND. 



55 



Sometimes we passed cities hiding behind their dikes, with only the 
steeples of the churches and the sails of the windmills peering at us 
above the embankments. 

Rotterdam is a handsome city; its name comes from the river 
Rotte and the word dam, signifying dike, which forms the termina- 
tion of the names of several Dutch towns. All Dutch towns have 
the reputation of being very clean, but Rotterdam had also a very 
new look; the houses on the Hoog Straat, or principal street, are 
large and modern looking, like those of Paris. It is probably the 
most enterprising city of Holland, and, next to Amsterdam, the rich- 
est. We are never tired of watching the shipping in the numerous 
canals, which also has a spick and span new appearance, every avail- 
able bit of woodwork painted in gay colors, and the sailors perpetu- 
ally scrubbing, and holy-stoning, and polishing. The coppers shine 
like gold, and the cabin windows have white muslin curtains. It is 
said that the .Hollanders pay more attention to scrubbing their side- 
walks than they do to personal cleanliness; but I think this a libel, 
for I have not yet seen a slatternly woman. The windows of the 
houses have a very attractive look, with their jardinieres of bright 
geraniums. 

Of course we have been at the picture gallery or museum, and 
have made so far a special study of Dutch landscapists. Myrtle 
suggested that we should begin in this way, by trying to become 
acquainted with the country, and after that with its people. As 
there is little variety in the land, the Dutch painters seem to have 
made much of the sky. We have, as a general thing, a quiet stretch 
of sand dune with low trees or windmills, and then a glorious cloud 
panorama. Ruysdael's pictures are quiet and restful; Cuyp's are 
more varied with cattle and shipping and glowing sunset effects. 
While we were trying to classify and understand the pictures, Myrtle 
happened to remark that she wished Mr. Blumenthal were with us 
to help us understand them. 



56 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



"Then you have quite forgiven him?" I asked, confessing what 
I had overheard at Ghent. 

" That is not his fault," she replied, " but that of his education. 
Most Europeans seem to think that women were created simply to 
help men in accomplishing a career. The idea that they have souls 
and aspirations of their own to develop, never seems to have entered 
their heads." 




A DUTCH LANDSCAPE. 



" Myrtle," I asked, " do you think of studying art?" 

" No, I have not the least bit of talent for it." 

"Well, then, how do you intend to give expression to all the 
grand ideas with which your brain is teeming?" 

" I shall have to go into partnership with some Vassar girl who is 
an artist or a writer, and agree to furnish her with subjects or plots, I 
presume." 

" It seems to me this is just what Mr. Blumenthal wanted you to 
do for him." 



HOLLAND. 



57 



"But he did not put it in that way. I was to be nothing, the 
cipher which was to give value to his life. If he had asked me in a 
fair American way, — let us work together, and I will do my best to 
express your thoughts, — why, that would have been a different thing 
altogether; but it was more like, — 

" ' Fishy, fishy, come bite my hook, 
I'll be captain if you'll be cook.' 

He did not think of me at 
all in the friendship which 
he proposed, or even of 
what we could do together; 
he thought only of himself." 
" Since the trouble is 
not in the plan itself," I re- 
marked, " but only in the 
young man's way of present- 
ing it, it is a pity that some 
one could not give lessons 
on polite and politic ways 
of putting things." 

"Delight Holmes!" 
Myrtle exclaimed, " if you 
ever give that stupid young 
man anv hints — but then, 
of course, you will have no opportunity to do so, and I shall probably 
never see him again, and it is just as well." But though she tripped 
into her own room humming a blithe tune, I have a fancy that she 
really does care, just a little. 

We have been to see the statue of Erasmus, who was born in 
Rotterdam, and I have been trying to arrive at a correct estimate of 
his character. He was one of the greatest scholars of the 16th cen- 




ERASMUS. 



ss 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



tury. He saw the abuses of the Romish church, but did not join the 
Reformation. Motley says of him: "The Sage of Rotterdam was a 
keen observer, but a moderate moralist. He loved ease, good com- 
pany, the soft repose of princely palaces, better than a life of martyr- 
dom and a death at the stake." He said of himself, " I am not of a 
mind to venture my life for the truth's sake; all men have not 
strength to endure the martyr's death. For myself, if it came to 
the point, I should do no better than Simon Peter." While we cen- 
sure him for knowing his duty and not doing it, let us beware lest we 
judge ourselves. 

His elegant Latin is world-renowned. The Colonel recited for 
us some of his verses. It is said that Erasmus borrowed the hcrse 
of an earnest Catholic, with whom he had had a discussion concern- 
ing the transubstantiation of the bread by the saying of the mass into 
the real body of Christ; and when his friend asked him to return it he 
sent him. these lines: — 

" Quod mihi dixisti 
De corpore Christi, 
Crede quod edas et edis, 
Sic tibi rescribo 
De tuo palfrido, • — 
Crede quod habeas et habes." 

"Can you turn that into English rhyme for me?" asked the 
Colonel; and as a rather free translation I gave him, — 

What to me you have said 
Of Christ's body [in bread], 
You will eat if you only believe it, 
Thus to you I make answer 
Concerning your prancer, — 
Believe you receive, you receive it. 

We had a little shock as we came away from looking at the 
statue of Erasmus. We were in a cab, and another drove swiftly by 



HOLLAND. 59 

us. Its occupant had his head out of the window, and was hallooing 
something to his driver. We all recognized the hooky nose. It was 
Mr. Van Bergen. Fortunately he did not see us. " I thought he 
lived in Amsterdam," the Colonel said. 

" I am glad he is here," Myrtle replied, " for I have quite dreaded 
going to Amsterdam, and now I shall not be expecting him to pop 
up there, like a Jack-in-the-box, at any instant." 

" I can't see what has so prejudiced you against the fellow," the 
Colonel remarked; "he was an excellent poker player." 

" Perhaps that is the reason for my dislike,"- Myrtle responded 

dryly. 

The Hague. 

We have come to The Hague, only stopping on the way at Delft, 
to see the house where William of Orange was assassinated. It is a 
barrack now, and soldiers were lounging about the doorway; we felt 
a little timid about accosting them, but, although we could not speak 
Dutch, the)- seemed to know what we had come for, and showed us 
the staircase where the prince was shot, and the bullet marks on the 
wall, with the inscription. Then the guard dived into the interior 
and brought back a subaltern who spoke French and who answered 
all our questions very politely. He showed us the way to the church, 
and pointed out the tomb of William the Silent. It is a very grand 
affair, and contains the sculptured figure of the prince, with the little 
dog at his feet which saved his life by barking when Spaniards were 
about to assassinate him. There probably never was a man, — so the 
officer said, — so hounded by assassins, or one who played a grander 
part in history. From the time that he learned of the plot between 
Philip II. of Spain and Henry II. of France to crush Protestantism 
in . their kingdoms, he took upon himself the defence of it in the 
Netherlands. Not because he was a Protestant at the time himself, 
but because he would not see defenceless people tortured and mur- 
dered for their religion. So, single-handed, he fought Philip II. and 



6o 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



the Inquisition, through splendid statesmanship and an intrepidity 
that we wonder at and admire. He must have considered the tre- 
mendous odds against him from the first, but, unlike Erasmus, he had 
the spirit of a hero, and he died triumphant. 




WILLIAM THE SILENT. 



At The Hague, art is the chief interest. We have seen more of 
the Hollanders, of the peasants in their odd costumes and wooden 
sabots, and here we have tried to study the life and the people 
through the genre paintings. There are quantities of small pictures 
of interiors, finished so highly as to show infinite pains, and yet of 
what we would consider trivial subjects. Eating and drinking play 



HOLLAND. 



61 



a great part, and kitchens with abundance of food ready for the cook, 
and shining copper and brass kettles. Green-groceries with mam- 
moth cabbages and onions, are also favorite scenes, but the art of Hol- 
land is not all so material. I must 
quote what Thackeray says of this 
collection: — 

" Here in the Hague Gallery is 
Paul Potter's pale eager face, and 
yonder is the magnificent work (the 
' Young Bull ') by which the young £gsl|^ 
fellow achieved his fame. What 
hidden, power lay in that weakly lad 
that enabled him to achieve such a 
wonderful victory? Potter was gone 
out of the world before he was thirty, 
but left this prodigy behind him. 
Napoleon carried off this picture to 
decorate his triumph of the Louvre." 

If I were a conquering prince I 
would have this picture certainly, and 
the Raphael "Madonna" from Dres- 

1 A 4.U TV U A n A B0Y IN SABOTS. 

den, and the litian 'Assumption 

from Venice, and that matchless Rembrandt of " The Dissection.' 7 

We stood before this last picture, unquestionably the greatest in 
the gallery. It represents a certain Dr. Tulp, to whom Rembrandt 
was much indebted, explaining to his pupils a lesson in anatomy. 
The first effect on looking at the painting is that of horror, for the 
light falls upon the corpse lying on the dissecting-table; the profes- 
sor is pointing to the muscles with his forceps. Myrtle, after one 
shuddering glance, declared that she could not look at it, b, 
came back again and again, fascinated not so much by the ho 
the thing on the table as by the "wonderful painting of the fa" 





62 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



the students following their master's grave explanations, with inter- 
est, professional enthusiasm, and respectful admiration of the learning 
of the doctor. 

Rembrandt's other paintings interested Myrtle greatly, particu- 
larly his portraits of himself, and his religious pictures. We saw one 
of his etchings to-day, the " Ecce Homo," and were impressed by the 
character expressed in the different faces, — the hypocrite in the Phar- 
isee, the rage in the mob, and the cowardice of Pilate, all contrasted 




REMBRANDT. 



by the simple nobility and resignation of Christ. " I remember now," 
said Myrtle, " how our art professor at Vassar, himself a Nether- 
lander, loved this picture; but some wa} r I had become impressed 
with the popular notion that Rembrandt was a painter of faces sil- 
houetted against great masses of black, while, to my surprise, I find 
myself admiring the tone in his pictures even more than Rubens' 
glorious color." 

I think Myrtle must be wrong in imagining that she ha^ no talent 
througn't; she seems to give the subject a great deal of earnest thought, 
of interitvish we were to stay longer at The Hague. The place interests 
what wereatly. It seems more decidedly Dutch than Rotterdam, and 




PROMENADE AT WEIMAR 



HOLLAND. 



65 



there are many queer customs which I have observed nowhere else. 
For instance, the people are very economical; they do not think of 
such extravagance as making a tire to cook breakfast. An old 
" water and fire woman " sits at the corner, and sells the maids a pot 
of boiling water and a burning piece of peat for a cent, with which 
she makes the coffee and boils the eggs, which, with rolls, and, possi- 
bly, cold meat, form the universal breakfast. I think we would loiter 
here longer but I have just received this letter from Miss Boylston, 
and so, after a trip to Scheveningen, a fishing village about two miles 
from The Hague, we shall hurry on to the Rhine. 
Miss Boylston writes: — 

COBLENTZ, August. 

My Dear Miss Holmes, — Our friend Maud Van Vechten, now Mrs. 
Richard Atchison, writes me of your coming, and I am all impatience to meet 
a friend of Maud. We made our first trip through France and Spain to- 
gether, and later we were in England together, to say nothing of the dear old 
Vassar days, which, in themselves, were enough to cement any friendship. And 
you and your friend are from Vassar too ! I cannot express how eager I am to 
see and to talk over college news. I have been in Germany so long that I feel 
as if I had drifted back into some antediluvian period, and I must return to 
busy, bustling America ere long to prove to myself that I am really alive. And 
yet I love Germany, as I am sure you will. I have been studying in Weimar, 
with Herr Liszt, and it seems to me that I have never known what music was 
before. I do not know that you are particularly interested in music, but, if you 
are, you will find the soul of it all through this German land. At the larger 
cities the opera is almost always good, and very cheap. Good seats are fifty 
cents for plays, as a general thing, and sixty-two for operas, while, I believe, 
they can be obtained in the upper galleries as low as fifteen cents. Last winter 
we had "Faust," given complete in four nights ; a grand experience, and if you 
are fond of Wagner you have great things in store. 

I am visiting here with a German lady, the Frau Generalin von Engel. Her 
husband, an officer of rank, was killed during the Franco-Prussian war. She is 
living a few miles from Coblentz, in a ritterhaus, something between a castle 
and a great farm-house. I made her acquaintance several years since, in Berlin, 



66 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

where I studied for a time in company with her daughter, and she insisted that 
I should spend a part of each summer with her here. I have told her of your 
coming, and she adds her most pressing invitation to mine that you will stop 
for a few days. I think you will enjoy such a visit, that it will give you a 
glimpse of German home life which you might not otherwise obtain, and I 
know it will give the good lady pleasure if you accept. She has several daugh- 
ters at home, whom you will find interesting, cultivated girls, and a son who is 
given to farming. It is Frau von Engel's grief that her second and favorite 
son, who should, according to her military ideas, have entered the army, where 
he was sure of promotion, should have developed such a love for painting that 
he has given up all thought of a career, and has devoted himself to the study 
of art. This seemed to Frau von Engel so much like a selling of his birth- 
right, and a lowering of the prestige of the family name, that the young man 
replied to her-bitter reproaches that he would take for the present the humbler 
name of Blumenthal, to which he has also a right, until he had proved himself 
to possess sufficient talent to add lustre to the family title. The young man is 
studying at the Antwerp Academy. 

I laid down the letter at this point with an exclamation of sur- 
prise. Shall I tell Myrtle what I have heard? That Mr. Blumen- 
thal is so highly connected, and has so much spirit? On mature 
reflection, I shall do nothing of the sort. It would be just like Myrtle 
to decide not to go there, and I am sure it is not this dear lady's fault 
that she is Mr. BlumenthaPs mother. How fortunate it is that he did 
not choose to claim the family name! Myrtle will never suspect that 
the Von Engels are in any way related to the little artist. 

Later. 
The Boujoulacs have accepted Frau von Engel's invitation, and 
I feel like a conspirator. It will be fully a week before we reach 
there, for first we are to visit — 



.S CHE VENINGEN. 



6 7 



CHAPTER V. 



SCHEVENINGEN. AMSTERDAM AND COLOGNE. MR. VAN BERGEN. 



#3^ 



CHEVENINGEN is a fishing village on the coast, 
which may be regarded as a suburb of The 
Hague. It is a great place for peasants in 
the strangest of caps and the showiest of 
ear-rings and other jewelry. They say we 
should see the place at Pinkster, a festival 
celebrated about the time of Easter; but as 
yet we have not been so fortunate as to see 
a kirmesse or peasant's fair. Scheveningen 
is, however, sufficiently interesting in its 
everyday life. Some of the peasant girls had 
very pretty faces ; the old women, as a rule, 
were preternaturally ugly. Scheveningen is 
divided into two parts; the old village, occu- 
pied by the fishing folk, and a modern w T ater- 
ing-place, frequented by the aristocracy. There could not be a 
stronger contrast between classes than that which we see here. 
We sat upon the beach and watched the strangers bathing, the chil- 
dren playing in the sand, the nurses watching them or gossiping, 
and as the tide was out I poked around in the little pools for new 
specimens of sea-weed. I found only coarse varieties, as I should 
have expected, from the cold waters of the North Sea. I am anxious 
to begin my botanical studies, or, at least, to know where I am to 
pursue them. Myrtle's brother writes that no ladies are received at 




A SCHEVENINGEN BOY. 



68 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



Bonn, but he hopes to induce one of the professors to act as my 
Privat Docent, or private tutor. 

In old Scheveningen we were followed about unpleasantly by 
quite a mob of children. Wooden shoes, and cheeses round as can- 
non balls, seemed to be the chief articles of merchandise in the little 
shops, and the drying of herring the chief industry. It seemed to be 
a village of women and children, for the men were away with the 




VIEW ON THE BEACH. 



boats. We were glad to leave this settlement of Amazons, for they 
were loud-voiced and dirty, and, though their husbands had gone 
" sailing out into the west, 

" Out into the west as the sun went down," 

the women, instead of watching them, seemed to prefer staring at 
us, and making uncomplimentary remarks, rather than wringing their 
hands and gazing after their spouses. The Flemish spoken here is 



AMSTERDAM. 



6 9 



peculiarly unmusical. Here is a sentence which is usually a shibbo- 
leth for all foreigners: — 

" De schout van Scheveningen scheert de schapen acht en tach- 
entig kleine kackeljes en de kat zij krabbelt de krullen van de trap- 
pen af." 

Amsterdam. 

This city has been called the northern Venice, but it is a disor- 
derly and unpicturesque 
Venice, with none of the 
calm and beauty of the 
Queen of the Adriatic. It 
is built on ninety islands, 

and has a labyrinth of ca- ^t«H :z^=r ~1w^. ■ »L^mJlm v •" 

nals, and more bridges 
than I can trust myself to 



enumerate; but instead 
of domes and campaniles, 
it has only a vast army 
of windmills beating their 
arms like a host of pug- 
nacious giants, challeng- 
ing all the Don Quixotes VIEW 0N THE BEACH - 
of the world to come and have it out with them in a boxing match. 

The city is built on the shores of the Y, a gulf of the Zuyder 
Zee, so called from its form. All Holland is low and flat enough, 
but here the water predominates so much over the land that one 
is tempted to accept Colonel Waring's derivation of Holland from 
Hollowland. It is a very noisy city. Steam tugs are tooting 
and whistling through the principal streets, people clamor and shriek 
to make themselves heard above the rattling of drawbridges, the 
clanging of chains, the roar of derricks, and the rumble of cordage. 
Everywhere bales and bags, casks and boxes, were being laden and 




7 o 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



unladen. Such racket and confusion must have been very distract- 
ing to a philosopher, and yet Descartes wrote from here to his friend 
Balzac, in 1629: — 

" In this great city of Amsterdam, where I am now, and where 

there is not a soul, except 
myself, that does not fol- 
low some commercial 
pursuit, everybody is so 
attentive to his gains that 
I might live there all my 
life without being noticed 
by anybody. I go walking 
every day, amidst the con- 
fusion of a great people, 
with as much freedom and 
quiet as you could do in 
your forest alleys. Even 
the noise of traffic does 
not interrupt my reveries 
any more than would that 
of some rivulet." 

The houses are tall and 

rickety, the streets narrow 

dutch windmill. and dark. The Ghetto, or 

Jews' quarter, is the most filthily and sinister part of the city. Myrtle 

and I clung tightly to the Colonel as we hurried through it. 

The nondescript architecture of the steeples and towers of Am- 
sterdam reminded us, as they did De Amicis, of Victor Hugo's com- 
parison: "They build steeples by putting an inverted salad-bowl 
upon a judge's cap, a sugar-bowl upon the salad-bowl, a bottle upon 
the sugar-bowl, and an ostensorium (a golden stand from which the 
Host is shown) upon the top of that." * 





DESCARTES AT AMSTERDAM. 



COLOGNE. 



73 



We went to the diamond-cutting establishment to which Mr. Van 
Bergen had directed us, and found, as we had anticipated, that he 
was not there. We were told that he was to be travelling for the 
firm all summer throughout Germany, so it is possible that we may 
meet our bete noir any day, 
anywhere. We were shown 
the process of diamond-cut- 
ting; worthless looking peb- 
bles flashed out before our 
eyes into glorious gems. 
A member of the firm told 
us that if we were anxious 
to meet Mr. Van Bergen, he 
might be found, or at least 
communicated with, at the 
shop of a Mr. Solomons, 
in Cologne, where money 
was advanced on precious 
stones; as it was our special 
desire not to see him, 
Myrtle was a little cha- 
grined to see her father 
carefully take the address, 
strasse, near the Maria 



Farina cologne establish- 
ment. Myrtle has confided 
to me that she purposes we 
shall make a very brief stop in Cologne, and she does not intend to 
give her father any chance to leave a card for Mr. Van Bergen. 
Myrtle is delighted that we are so near Germany, but I am sorry to 
leave queer old Holland, with its pretty peasant girls in their impossi- 
ble costumes, the milk sellers with their dog-carts, the laundresses 




SKETCHES IN HOLLAND. 



74 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



carrying their linen by the aid of a yoke fitted to their shoulders, 
the lace caps with lapels like rabbit's ears, and all the absurd but 
honest fashions of this quaint country. 

Cologne. 
Myrtle managed very adroitly, by first writing to Miss Boylston, 
and setting the date on which we might be expected at Coblentz. 
Then she insisted on stopping at Dusseldorf to see the gallery, though 
its chief treasures have been carried off to adorn the Pinacothek at 
Munich. In Dusseldorf we saw some delightful peasant pictures by 
Defregger, Vautier, and Knaus, three of the best painters of humble 
life in Germany. Ludwig Knaus' children in daisy-starred meadows 
are simply delicious. Vautier's are more serious in aim, and are full 
of character. This left us only three days, and, as the Colonel wished 

to spend at least two days 
with his son at Bonn, we 
could only give Cologne 
the time between the ar- 
rival of the morning and 
the departure of the after- 
noon train. Here again 
Myrtle manoeuvred skil- 
fully. We went first to 
see the grand, unfinished 
cathedral, which is ruinous 
in parts, while the towers 
are yet uncompleted. It 
was begun in 1248, and 
glimpse at dusseldorf. has been building with 

intervals of neglect all these centuries. If finished, it is said it would 
have no equal in the world. 

We found the slab which covers the remains of Marie de Medici, 
who died here in exile and poverty. The half light of the cathedral 





CATHEDRAL AT COLOGNE. 



COLOGNE. 77 

interior was most impressive; the perfume of the incense, the twink- 
ling tapers, the solemn notes of the organ, and the thought of the 
dead queen, all combined to touch us profoundly. When we came 
out into the garish daylight, Myrtle suggested that we should hunt up 
St. Martin's Church, the favorite church of the people, with its quaint 
towers and extinguisher cap. Then Myrtle found it absolutely neces- 
sary to make a pilgrimage to the church of St. Ursula, to see the 
bones of the eleven thousand virgins, which modern research has 
dwindled to eleven, owing to a misreading of the old Latin numerals. 

After this, we lunched ; and then the Colonel felt the need of a 
post-prandial nap, and sent Myrtle and me off for a drive about town 
in a cab. Myrtle squeezed my hand with delight : " The crisis is 
passed," she said. " Papa never has the enterprise to accomplish 
anything in the afternoon ; we shall hear no more of Mr. Van Bergen 
and his detestable pawn-shop." 

(Marginal note. Poor Myrtle was over-confident ; she little 
imagined- at this time the suffering that this same little pawn-shop 
would cause herself and father.) 

Myrtle was in the gayest spirits as we drove about the city. 
" The guide-book says that Cologne is the largest and wealthiest city 
on the Rhine ! " she exclaimed. " Think of it, Delight ! at last we 
are really on the Rhine ; and the language is German, and not that 
unpronounceable Flemish ! I am in love with the very signs. See, 
Delicatessen, — doesn't that make your mouth water? Musik 
Papier — perhaps Mendelssohn bought the paper on which he 
wrote his scores at that very shop. Leih Bibliothek, — I can see the 
books on the shelves, — Schiller and Goethe, Heine and Richter, and 
Auerbach and Ebers. Even that announcement of Stuttgart sausage 
and pretzels is so delightfully German that it loses all its vulgarity." 

"It is rather a pity that the streets are so dirty," I said. "We 
miss the street-sweepers of Antwerp." 

" Yes," Myrtle replied ; " Cologne is noted for its unchristian 



7 8 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

smells. This is probably the reason that drove the inhabitants to the 
manufacture of perfumes. Who was it wrote ? 

" The river Rhine, it is well known, 
Doth wash your city of Cologne. 
But tell me, nymphs, what power divine 
Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine ? " 

So we finished our drive, and returned in high spirits to the hotel. 
As we passed the gentlemen's lounging-room, on our entrance, 
Myrtle clutched my arm ; and I was myself electrified to see the 
Colonel, whom we had imagined so safely disposed of, engaged in 
a quiet game of cards with a gentleman whose back was towards 
us, but whom we immediately recognized as Mr. Van Bergen. 




ST. MARTIN'S CHURCH. 



BONN. 



CHAPTER VI. 

BONN, COBLENTZ, THE ENGEL RITTERGUT. 

THE banks of the Rhine, from Cologne to Bonn, are flat and unin- 
teresting-. The Colonel declared that the river would not hold 
a candle to the Mississippi; and as for real picturesqueness, it had 
been terribly overrated, and was not to be compared to the French 
Broad, in North Carolina, where he was ''•raised.'" But all his grum- 
bling changed to quips and jokes when we reached the old university 
town and were met by his son Joe, a really fine-looking young man. 
Even Myrtle was roused from the depression into which that glimpse 
at the hotel had plunged her. I She is proud of her brother, as she 
well may be, and we spent the day very pleasantly, viewing the old 
town. He took us to the museum of Roman antiquities and to the 
chemical laboratory, which is really very fine. Schlegel and Niebuhr 
were professors here. The university has over one hundred profes- 
sors, and upwards of seven hundred students. Prince Albert studied 
here, and Joe says the Saxe Gotha Almanac is well represented 
among the students. He was sorry not to introduce us to the sons 
of several counts and hofmeisters and other illustriousnesses, but it is 
vacation and they are away. Joe is an enthusiast over electricity, and 
has been taking special work, preparing himself to be an electrical 
engineer. "You are a plucky little thing to come over here to study 
microscopy," he said to me. "Can you speak German?" 

"After a fashion," I replied; "I have read 'Wilhelm Tell' and 
'Egmont.' " 

"With a dictionary," he interrupted, "and you think of each word 



82 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



in English before you speak it. I've no doubt you are splendidly 
prepared in botany; but unless you have a glib German tongue, I'm 
afraid Professor Wissenschaft will not take to you. If it was Myrtle 
here, I've no doubt she could make her way with half your knowl- 
edge; but you have such a frightened look, and are so tremendously 
little." 

"Thank you," I replied, "for reminding me of my insignificance." 
"There, I'm always putting my foot in it; but I wish you were a 
little more overpowering." 

We called on Professor Wissenschaft, with the ill success which 

Joe had predicted. He did not care 
to take private pupils, and advised me 
to apply to Professor Schwendeuer of 
Berlin, who is the great authority on 
fungi, algae, etc. But first he was sure 
it would be to my advantage to take 
a special course in biology at Berne, 
Zurich, or Geneva, the only places 
really open to women, as to lectures 
and degrees. I thanked him, accepted 
his offer of a letter to Professor Schwen- 
deuer, and came away a little discouraged, for Maud's friend, Dr. Vic- 
toria Delevan, wrote me that she would not advise any young girl 
to study alone in Zurich; it is very unpleasant, on many accounts. 
Joe tried to cheer me up, and thought that something might be done 
at Heidelberg or Strasburg, where we are going. 

After supper, we strolled out, under the double avenue of chestnuts, 
to the Schloss Poppelsdorf, and then turned into the beautiful Hof- 
garten, full of grand old trees. Here we sat and chatted of different 
parts of Germany, which I shall probably not see, unless I decide to 
study in Berlin, for our present plan contemplates only the Rhine, 
and possibly a corner of the Tyrol. Joe first studied German in 




PROFESSQR WISSENSCHAFT. 



BONN. 



83 



Hanover. The language of the north he thinks the best model for a 
foreigner, for it is clear-cut and exact, while the lisping character of 
the southern German accent, though, like our own southern dialect, 
very charming, he considers not so correct or so easily copied. The 
people of Hanover are very well affected toward the English, owing 
to their connection with them through the Hanoverian princes. 




IN THE PUBLIC GARDENS AT BONN. 



After a winter's residence here, Joe made a summer's tour through 
Germany, before settling down to his studies at Bonn. He touched 
off each of the principal cities with a few neat words of description. 
Potsdam, he said, was identified with the memory of Friedrich der 
Grosze; Berlin, with the present court, the Green Vaults, and the 
famous promenade, Unter den Linden; Dresden, with its art 
gallery, famous above all for the Madonna San Sisto, and Correggio's 
Magdalen; with the porcelain works at Meissen, and with its fine 
photographs; Leipsic, with its university, its musical conservatory, 



84 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

and its printing; Nuremberg, with metal work and carving; Munich, 
with modern artists, especially Kaulbach and Piloty, and with 
its fine art galleries. There are twenty-one university towns. At 
Essen, on the Ruhr, are the great foundries where the Krupp o-uns 
are made. 

He says when we are at Heidelberg we must run across to Stutt- 
gart, and suggested that we should now make an excursion up the 
Moselle. "I rowed up as far as Treves with my friend Blumenthal 
last summer," he said. I wrung my hands under my shawl, fancying 
that now the secret that Mr. Blumenthal was the son of Frau Von 
Engel would certainly be divulged. But Myrtle, not caring to hear 
more of Mr. Blumenthal, rose and walked away down a little path 
for a view of the Rhine; and I had an opportunity to explain my 
small plot. It happened that, although we had told Joe of our invita- 
tion to visit Frau Von Engel, her relationship to Mr. Blumenthal had 
not been explained, probably because Joe supposed that his sister 
already understood it. As I told him the whole story, how his friend 
had offended Myrtle and my conviction that she could never have 
been persuaded knowingly to visit at his home, he laughed merrily. 
"You girls are all alike," he said, "always full of mysterious plots. 
I admire your strategy, for Blumenthal is a good fellow after all, and 
Myrtle is sure to like his mother. There is' a picture of his which he 
has lately sent on sale at the art store in Bonn. The dealer knew 
him in student days. I wish father would buy it." 

The next day, Joe took us to see the picture. It was called "News 
from the Front," and was a scene from Mr. Blumenthal's childhood. 
When his father, a Prussian officer, followed Moltke to France, he took 
with him a cage of pigeons; after each German victory, he liberated 
one, which flew straight to the home dove-cote, carrying under its 
wing a little packet containing the latest news. One day a pigeon 
came, with no letter, but with a shred of some black stuff about its 
neck, and a lock of the officer's hair under its wing. Then the poor 



BONN. 



85 



lady knew that her husband was dead, and that his faithful servant, 
who could neither read nor write, had sent her this message. 

The picture represented the arrival of the pigeon. The widow 
was leaning from an ivy-framed window tempting the bird to ap- 
proach, while her agonized gaze was fastened upon the fluttering 




GODESBURG. 



black signal. At the lady's side was the wondering face of a boy, 
which suggested that of the young artist. 

Myrtle was struck by the painting. u He has more imagination 
than I thought," she said. "I would like to buy the picture." 

The Colonel demurred. "Can you do it and keep within your 
allowance?" he asked. Myrtle flushed, and looked at her father 



36 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

strangely for a moment. I thought she was going to say, "Have you 
kept your part, of the agreement?" but she restrained herself; and 
the Colonel left the store, apparently unconscious of anything unusual 
in his daughter's demeanor. Joe has decided to make the trip up the 
Rhine with us, and will join us at the Engel Rittergut. 

We came on to Coblentz yesterday. It is an important town, situ- 
ated at the junction of the Moselle with the Rhine. We begin now 
to approach the romantic regions, and to see ruins and castles. At 
Godesburg, near Bonn, we saw a high dungeon tower, standing alone 
amid the crumbling arches which once formed a part of the edifice. 
This tower is at least ninety feet high, and, we were told, commanded 
a fine view of Drachenfels in the Siebengebirge. We passed Konigs- 
. winter, and Nonnenwerth, and Rolandsdeck, the scene of Campbell's 
poem. The legend runs that Hildegund hearing of Roland's death 
in Spain, took the veil at Nonnenwerth; the rumor proving to be false 
just too late. Roland, returning, built himself a hermitage, where he 
could look down upon the island, and hear the choral service of the 
nuns. William Black has written a little poem on Nonnenwerth, 

beginning, — 

" Knight Roland sate above the Rhine ; 
O bride of God that walkest there, 
Gone is the gold-light of thy hair; 
And never more thy blue eye's shine 
May rise to meet the love of mine." 

We stopped for a few hours at Andernach, the delight of all art- 
ists. We saw several of them. One, seated in the old Convent 
kitchen, splashing in the rich browns of the interior in water-color; 
another, making a fine pen-and-ink sketch of the town; and a third, 
in the village street, was painting in oils the portrait of a wrinkled 
crone, while a tribe of the prettiest and plumpest of children, for 
whom Andernach is especially noted, were critically examining his 
work. 




IN ANDERNACH. 



COBLENTZ. 



89 



We were met at Coblentz by Otto Von Engel, Mr. Blumenthars 
older brother. He is a tail, well built man, who speaks French fluently. 
He had come for us with an open carriage; and he took us to drive 
across the long lava bridge which spans the Moselle, and up to the 
fortress of Ehrenbreitstein, a citadel, which fully exemplifies Germany's 




EHRENBREITSTEIN. 

military strength. "My father was stationed here," Mr. Von Engel 
explained, "and it was to have his family near him that he purchased 
from the government the rittergut where we now live." 

A rittergut, as he explained it, is a sort of farm, with a manor 
house, to possess which, in itself, is a sort of patent of nobility; and 
a Gutbesitzer is a gentleman farmer. "When the Franco-Prussian 
war broke out, my father was ordered to the front," he continued, 



9° 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



" and was killed in the attack on Bougival, in the very last fighting, 

before the taking of Paris." 

Myrtle murmured something sympathetic, and added, "It seems 

that all the German acquaintances we have made so far, have lost 

their fathers in the late war." 

"We are a military nation," Mr. Von Engel replied. "What else 

can we expect? But Bismarck has done good; he has accomplished 

his great plan, the unification of Germany, and that — " 

"Makes it easier for the children who 
study geography," Myrtle interpolated 
mischievously. "It must have been very 
hard for you, when a boy, to remember 
all the kingdoms, and grand duchies, and 
principalities. That is what consoles 
papa for the failure of the Southern Con- 
federacy. The United States once dis- 
solved, we would have separated into ever 
so many different countries; and think 
how hard it would have made the 'bound- 




THE GNADIGE FRAU VON ENGEL. 



ing' for the school children of the next 
generation." 



'There is a higher thought hidden in your pleasantry," the young 
man said, gravely. "The fewer countries, the fewer wars. We 
shall reach the time, by and by, when there will be only one nation, 
the entire human family." "And this nation of the future will be 
German?" Myrtle asked. "Assuredly"; and at this he drew rein 
before a picturesque country house, through whose park we had been 
driving. On the steps stood an elderly lady, the Gnadige Frau Von 
Engel, very plainly dressed in a short black silk gown, her white 
hair combed back under a black silk cap, with a ruche of the same 
material. She wore large unbecoming spectacles; but a kindly 
smile lurked in the wrinkles of her very positive mouth, and she 



THE EN GEL RITTERGUT. 



9 I 



welcomed us most kindly. Miss Boylston came forward and pre- 
sented Professor Hammer, an old musician, and the daughter of the 
house, the Countess Stoltzenberg, a tall elegant appearing young 
woman, dressed, in contrast to her mother, in the height of the Berlin 
fashions. It has struck me since I have been here, that German peo- 
ple, if this family can be taken as an example, do not pay great atten- 
tion to dress. The fashionable allow themselves to be clothed by 
their dressmakers, without considering whether the mode is espec- 
ially becoming; and such good dames as the Frau Von Engel go on 
dressing as they did in their youth, simply from convenience. The 
result is not so artistic as the dressing in 
America, but it saves a deal of mental 
"worry; and they are so delightfully un- 
conscious of their personal appearance, 
and devote themselves so thoroughly to 
having a good time, as if clothing were a 
matter of natural growth, like plumage. 

I shall write of Miss Boylston later; 
at present, I can only say that she looks 
very clever, and I am a trifle afraid of 
her. She played for us last evening Liszt's Rhapsodie Hongroise 
No. 2, one of her favorite selections, I am sure* for her very heart 
seemed to £0 into her finders. 

Professor Hammer watched her with the keenest interest; the 
Countess and Miss Boylston have been his pupils, and it is easy to 
see which he prefers. He confided to me that she has a wonderful 
talent, " but," he added, " a great catastrophe menaces her, — a mar- 
riage. Bah! such a woman has no right to marry." 

I wonder whom Miss Boylston is to marry; perhaps Otto Von 
Engel. Frau Von Engel is to give a Kaffeeklatsch this afternoon 
to some of her neighbors, and we will see a little of German society. 
So far, I find everything German intensely interesting. The cham- 




PROFESSOR HAMMER. 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



ber which has been assigned to Myrtle and to me, in which I am 
now writing, is as quaint and queer as one could well imagine. One 
side is occupied by two single beds standing foot to foot, each with a 

puffy eider-down quilt like a pin-cush- 
ion; the pillows studiously covered by 
the chintz spreads. The room is pa- 
pered with a vine pattern, green and 
white, very fresh and bowery; there 
are white muslin curtains at the win- 
dows, which look out upon the dove- 
cote, and are continually crossed by 
the shadows of flitting wings. Nearly 
in the centre of the room, is a monu- 
mental arrangement in white porcelain, 
which Myrtle thought was a pedestal 
for a statue, but which we soon ascer- 
tained was a German stove. There was 
no lire in it, and a jug containing a 
bouquet of roses stood on the snowy 
slab. The Dienstmadchen (servant) 
has just appeared with a cup of chocolate; as though we could 
eat anything more after the very abundant abendbrod (supper). 
It shows their kindliness of heart all the same. Frau Von Engel had 
much to say of Joe Boujoulac, and quite won the Colonel's heart by 
her admiration for his liebenswurdig- (son). We have fallen into 
kindly hands, and I foresee a delightful visit. 




THE COUNTESS. 



A KAFFEEKLATSCH. 



93 



CHAPTER VII. 



A KAFFEEKLATSCH, AND A MYSTERIOUS OCCURRENCE. 




OMETHING very extraordinary has happened; 
but I must relate all in regular order. 

The Kaffeeklatsch was very interesting. It 
was a sort of four o'clock tea. Only ladies 
were present, most of them wives of officers, for 
Frau Von Engel's acquaintance is chiefly military. 
Some of the gentlemen drove up to the door with 
them, and then incontinently departed. They 
would have faced the French chassepots sooner 
a german officek. than our society, and yet they were handsome, 
burly men, with fierce moustaches, and their coat fronts presented a 
startling array of decorations; stars, crosses, and ribbons of every color. 
I am becoming- accustomed to hearino- German, so that I can now 
gather ideas from the waves of sound, which formerly broke around 
me as unintelligibly as the breakers on a rocky coast. The conversa- 
tion turned on the last war. "You should have seen Coblentz then," 
said an old lad}', the Frau Baronin Von — something or other; " it was 
a depot of supplies, and forwarding station. The town was filled with 
troops, going, coming, constantly moving; but always lull. It would 
have clone your heart good to see the provisions which the burgomas- 
ters of the different districts sent in. Long trains of forage, and 
wagons of beer, and hams, and sausage, and cheese, and wine, and 
poultry, and bread. Lieber himmell how often I have said, 'Of 
course our soldiers will light if they are fed like that.' " 



94 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



Another, prettier and more romantic woman chimed in, "Ah! yes; 
the soldiers had all they could eat, but it was sad all the same. They 
were such handsome fellows, and their- wives and their sweethearts 
often came as far as Coblentz to bid them good-bye. I was only a 
Backfischen (schoolgirl) then, but I was much impressed by the 
farewells. Every third person you met was crying or kissing good- 




BISMARCK. 



bye, or hiding a souvenir in his breast. I was eight years old, and I 
determined on the spot that I would some day marry a ivohlgeborn 
Uauptmann at least." 

" * J'aime les militaires,' " hummed Frau Von Engel ; " how any man 
can adopt any other profession, is beyond my poor comprehension." 

"And how heavenly is the uniform!" exclaimed another enthusi- 
astic lady; "the helmet, which may serve as a drinking-cup. But 



A KAFFEEKLATSCH. 



95 



for something wunderschon, quite ravishing, give me a regiment of 
Hussars; with their superb horses richly trapped, and the splendor 
of their dress, equal to that of the Knights of the Middle Ages. You 
have heard of the Hussar who, visiting his fiancee, carelessly placed 
his helmet too near the fire, and the fine horse-hair plume was burned 




THE KAFFEEKLATSCH. 



off, and how the girl cut off her own beautiful black hair to supply 
its place? Well the story is quite true; I knew the lady. Fortu- 
nately, her hair grew out again thicker and more lovely than 
before." 

" Achl liebes kind, the Hussars are very well," said one lady, "but 
what can be finer than the uniform of the Bavarian Jaegers; blue 
hunting suits with green plumes, and how they spoiled their uniforms 



g6 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

at the battle of Woerth, poor fellows. They were under the com- 
mand of General Steinmetz." 

"They were all brave fellows,'' said the daughter of our hostess, 
the Gnadige Grafin; "my father was in the famous Guard Corps, 
commanded by Prince Friedrich Karl. I can remember now how 
they sang the Wacht am Rhein, the night before they left Coblentz." 

All this time, trays of cakes and sweetmeats were being con- 
stantly passed by Katchen, the countess's maid, who wore a wonder- 
ful cap over her yellow braids. The chattering did not in the least 
interfere with the eating. A Frau Burgermeisterin absorbed, accord- 
ing to my strict count, live cups of coffee, ten different kinds of cake, 
three dishes of ice-cream, several glasses of wine, besides an unlim- 
ited quantity of candies. Frau Von Engel constantly pressed her 
with "Bitte, bitte, you eat gar nichts" and she excused her lack of 
appetite quite gravely, explaining that she had just come from a 
lunch party, and was on her way to a grand dinner at the house of 
a Frau Directorin. How the Germans do enjoy eating! Frau Von 
Engel told me, with a pathetic little sigh, that she sent her husband a 
box of goose sausages and pickled sauer-kraut, of which he was very 
fond, and she could almost have forgiven the French if they had only 
^iven him time to eat them before he was killed! 

We have four regular meals per day, and I can well believe the 
story that the commander-in-chief of the Prussian army, when he 
■billeted his officers and men on ruined Strasburg, demanded that 
each person should have two breakfasts, — the first, of coffee and rolls, 
the second, of soup and a solid dish of meat with vegetables; a dinner 
of soup, two kinds of meat, vegetables, dessert and coffee, with two 
bottles of good wine, and five cigars. This contributed more than 
anything else to fan the hatred of the French for the troops invading 
Alsace. 

I was quite thankful when the party was over, and glad to escape 
with Myrtle into the open air, for Otto Von Engel wished to show 



A MYSTERIOUS OCCURRENCE. 



97 



us his gardens. Myrtle took out her camera, which has been neg- 
lected of late, and took some photographs of the buildings, and of 
the head gardener, Heinrich, who was dressed in his holiday suit, 
as he had been serving as gate-opener for the company. 

Otto is proudest of his tulips, and was surprised that the mania 
for this flower had subsided in Holland. He gave Myrtle a bulb, 
which, he said, at one time would have brought a fabulous price, 
as the flower is quite black, and, though common now, was formerly 
very rare. Myrtle asked to have it 
potted, as she was impatient to see the 
blossom. Otto placed it in earth for 
her, and cautioned her not to be so 
impatient as to pull it up every day to 
see whether it were growing. 

Myrtle, to my mind, was the most 
beautiful girl at the Kaffeeklatsch, and 
she was unquestionably the best dressed. 
She wore her diamond cross, and al- 
though the Colonel expressed himself 
again as dissatisfied with the setting, 
and wished Myrtle would not be so 
obdurate about having it remounted, 
none of the noble ladies wore more magnificent srems. 

And now comes the mysterious occurrence. Myrtle thinks she 
left the cross rather carelessly on the dressing-table at night, and 
when we awoke in the morning it was not to be found! 

I either dreamed it, or I sleepily saw some one standing by the 
toilet table during the night, but my impressions were so confused 
that they were worthless. 

Myrtle was greatly troubled; but she would not allow me to 
mention it to Frau Von Engel or to her father. " I do not want 
to throw suspicion unjustly upon the servants, or to alarm papa 




HEINRICH. 



9 8 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



causelessly," she said; "perhaps I mislaid it, and I want to take a 
thorough hunt through my belongings before I raise the alarm." 

The windows of our room open upon a little balcony, which runs 
along past the Colonel's room to the corner of the building. Myrtle 
had placed her tulip on this balcony, and I noticed that it had been over- 




■tr^vs 



THE RITTERGUT. 



turned and the bulb carelessly replaced. " Whoever took your cross 
entered by the balcony," I said, pointing to the flower-pot. Myrtle 
turned deadly pale, but said nothing. It seemed to me that I read 
her thoughts, and that a suspicion that her father had taken the cross, 
possibly to pay a gambling debt, flashed at that instant across her 
mind. 

At the breakfast table, Frau Von Engel proposed that we should 




THE PORTA NIGRA. 



A MYSTERIOUS OCCURRENCE. IOI 

make an excursion of three or four days by steamer; up the Moselle 
to Treves, where there are some Roman ruins, stopping also at other 
interesting places en route. 

The Colonel professed himself very sorry, but said that he had 
promised his son to return to Bonn and spend a few days with him. 
(I was morally certain that this was only an excuse to carry the 
cross to Cologne.) His engagement, he protested, need not in any 
way interfere with our enjoying the trip. He was very gay and 
chatty, professed himself delighted with Germany, and said he would 
like nothing better than to have a position in the German army. This 
delighted Frau Von Engel, who was sure that it could be managed. 

"Have you any messages for your brother?" the Colonel asked 
of Myrtle, shortly before he left. Myrtle drew her father aside from 
the others. " I want you to purchase that picture of Mr. Blumen- 
thal's for me," she said, speaking rapidly and in a constrained way. 
"You noticed that I wore my Brussels lace scarf at the Kaffeeklatsch. 
The Countess admired it greatly; she is a connoisseur in lace, and 
asked me where she could obtain a scarf like mine. I told her that I 
was tired of it, and it was at her service. She insisted on my accept- 
ing the sum which I paid for it, and this makes it possible for me to 
purchase the picture without going beyond my allowance." 

"Very well, my dear," said the Colonel; " I shall be rather glad to 
have the scarf out of the way, especially as you were never to wear it 
without conveying to me a disagreeable reproach." 

Myrtle looked her father steadily in the face, and said, with only a 
slight tremble in her voice, " I ought to tell you that I have lost my 
diamond cross." 

"What!" he exclaimed, starting violently. "Have you informed 
Frau Von Engel ? A reward ought at once to be offered for its re- 
covery." 

Myrtle's glance fell. " I thought if I waited it might be returned, 
or perhaps I may find it," she hesitated. 



102 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

The Colonel gave his daughter a swift, suspicious glance. " You 
are possibly right," he said, in a constrained voice. " We will wait 
before making an outcry." 

It was a strange tableau to take place between father and daugh- 
ter, and I was grieved to have witnessed it. I was not sorry that the 
interview was interrupted by the arrival of a visitor, and by joyful 
outcries from the Von Engels. Turning, we were surprised to see 
Joe paying his respects to the Countess, and receiving the welcomes 
of the family. 

Frau Von Engel clapped her hands joyfully. " This is just as it 
should be," she cried; "now your father has no excuse to absent 
himself from us, and you are just in time to join our excursion. 
Nicht nvahr f " 

" With all my heart," Joe replied. " In what direction is the ex- 
cursion? I have thrown over my vacation cramming, and obtained 
leave of absence for a month. Ah! my bemooste haupt!" he cried, 
catching sight of Otto and embracing him affectionately. 

"Moss-covered head! what does he mean by such an expres- 
sion?" I asked of Miss Boylston. 

" It is a college term of respect given to the oldest student. I 
used to hear it frequently in Weimar," she replied, " but, since Otto 
has devoted himself to agriculture and gardening, it is intended as a 
little play upon words; an insinuation that he has vegetation on the 
brain, I presume." 

It was quite true that the Colonel had now no excuse to absent 
himself from us. There was nothing for him to do but to pretend to 
be perfectly satisfied. He flew about with a rather overstrained 
gayety; and I thought, with a certain grim satisfaction, that the dia- 
mond cross was probably safely buttoned inside his waistcoat, and 
would have no chance of finding its way to Mr. Van Bergen, until 
our return from Treves. 



THE MOSELLE. 



I03 



CHAPTER VIII. 



THE MOSELLE. — AN EXPLANATION. 




WE formed a rather imposing pro- 
( 



cession, as we embarked on the 
little steamer which is to take us 
up the Moselle. As the servants 
stowed the lunch hampers on 
board, I noticed that there was 
one for every member of the 
party. Frau Von Engel says 
the inns are execrable, but it 
does not seem possible that we 
can consume such a store of pro- 
visions. Our first stop was at 
Carden, where we took carriages 
for the famous Castle Elz, one 
of the oldest and grandest in 
Germany. The entire river had 
been one lovely winding panorama of terraces, covered with vines 

and verdant intervals. . 

As our party was a large one, it broke up, laterally, into groups 
I noticed, with satisfaction, that Frau Von Engel and Myrt e seemed 
to take to one another; there is something about the elder lady s 
quaint frankness, her heartiness and honesty, which fascmates Myrtle, 
while I can see that the Frau admires Myrtle's gentleness and defer- 
ence She looked lovelier than ever too in her shade hat, with a new 



MISS BOYLSTON. 



104 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



pensiveness, which is not natural, but has lately come into her eyes. 
Poor Myrtle! while she is talking to the Frau, she is thinking of her 
father, who is devoting himself politely to the Countess; and her eyes 
follow him with a loving trouble, which I alone understand. The 
four took the lead in an open carriage, while Miss Boylston, Profes- 
sor Hammer, Joe, and I, took a second, Otto climbing to the driver's 

seat. We followed a ravine for 
about a mile, when the peaked tur- 
rets of the castle came in view. It 
is one of the most satisfactory reali- 
zations of what a feudal castle should 
be; is very tall and imposing, and is 
built upon an island, the little stream 
flowing- around it and washing its 
foundations. It is the home of one 
of the noblest German families, with 
whom the Von Engels are slightly 
acquainted, and from whom they 
have permission to visit the castle at 
any time, a privilege not always ac- 
corded to the ordinary traveller. 
The interior of the castle is a 
maze of winding passages, galleries, and apartments. We strayed 
about from room to room, and out upon the roof. Joe saw his sister 
looking sadly from a turret window, her thoughts evidently with- 
drawn from the lovely landscape, and he sang lightly, — 

" Ich weiss nicht was soil es bedeuten 
Dasz ich so traurig bin." 

Myrtle crimsoned and turned away. 

"What is the matter with Myrtle?" he asked of me. "She seems 
uncommon grumpy. Doesn't she like the Von Engels?" 

For a moment I thought of confiding in him. Would it not be 




v ; - 



WITH A NEW PENSIVENESS. 



THE MOSELLE. 



J °5 



easy for him to discover the whereabouts of the lost cross, or at least 
so watch and guard his father that he would be unable to dispose of 
it, or to indulge in the dangerous society of Mr. Van Bergen. The 
next instant I felt that this would be a disloyalty to Myrtle, that the 
poor girl would prefer to walk the thorny way alone, and I turned 
aside the inquiry. 

As we left the castle, Miss Boylston was thrown with Joe, quite 
accidentally as it seemed to me, and I was left with Professor Ham- 
mer, who was very much out of sorts, and not at all amusing. When 
Miss Boylston joined us, as she did for the carriage drive, he brio-ht- 
ened up, and we chatted of music and musicians. 

I was anxious to hear about her stay at Weimar, and of Liszt. 
She showed me his autograph in a little pocket-album: — 

"Mit den besten gliickwunschen zu ihren bestandigen kunstler- 
ischen erfolgen." (With best wishes for your artistic career.) Pro- 
fessor Hammer growled under his breath, glaring at Joe: "Noth- 
ing in the way of it, — nothing at all, — but that monkey." 

Miss Boylston says that Herr Liszt is the kindest-hearted man in 
the world. Some one writes that he found him standing on one of 
the street corners in Paris, holding the broom of a crossing sweeper. 
On being asked what he was doing, he replied, "I had no change 
less than a five-franc piece; the little man has gone to get it changed, 
and in the meantime I am taking: care of his broom." 

Wagner is Liszt's son-in-law. Miss Boylston admires Wagner's 
music exceedingly. I did not dare tell her that to me it is a barbaric 
blare of sound. 

I was startled by Wagner's creed, which Professor Hammer gave 
us: "Ich glaube an Gott, Mozart, und Beethoven." 

The conversation turned upon Mendelssohn. 

"You know," said Miss Boylston, "that in his youth he was mus- 
ical director at Dusseldorf, and at Cologne. It was there that some 
of his first successes were achieved. His father's letters from Diis- 



106 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

seldorf describing the Musical Festival of 1833," Miss Boylston added, 
"are delightful in their expression of the first delight and surprise over 
his son's triumphs. The entire neighboring country swarmed into 
Diisseldorf to attend the festival. A large hall was built in a beer- 
garden outside the city, and here, between the first and second parts 
of 'Israel,' the audience 'rush into the garden,' and, after the German 
fashion, consume vast quantities of Maitrank, seltzer- water, curds and 
whey, etc. Then a loud flourish is blown from the orchestra, and 
again Israel cries to the Lord. But the Germans are as sincere in 
their love of music as their fondness for eating. The young General 
Musikdirektor won his first laurels, literally, in this beer-garden. 
His friends from the chorus held him while a laurel wreath was 
placed on his head; the orchestra especially were wild with enthu- 
siasm, the Cologne people carried him away to their city to do him 
honor, and the tide of popular applause swept him from obscurity to 
the place he now occupies throughout Germany and the world." 

We spent the night at Trarbach, about half way between Coblentz 
and Treves, and in the early morning climbed to the ruins of the 
Graefinburg, that overlook the town. Joe was again Miss Boylston's 
escort. "They are always together, those two," grumbled Professor 
Hammer, as we toiled along in company. When we reached the 
summit, we threw ourselves on the grass and enjoyed' the view of the 
river. Unfortunately, the wind brought our friends' conversation 
toward us, though they sat at a little distance. They were compar- 
ing this ruin to Drachenfels. "I never see that castled crag," said Joe, 
"without thinking of Byron's lines: — 

" ' Above the frequent feudal towers, 
Through green leaves, lift their walls of gray ; 
And many a rock which steeply towers, 
And noble arch in proud decay, 
Look o'er this vale of vintage bowers ; 
But one thing want these banks of Rhine, 
Thy gentle hand to clasp in mine.' " 




-J^J^ ,f 



TRARBACH. 



THE MOSELLE. 



IO9 



" Donne-rwetter!" exclaimed the Professor; so energetically that 
Miss Boylston looked up and asked, "Do you think we are going to 
have a storm ?" 

I could not resist a laugh. "It was the poetry," I explained; "I 
do not think the Professor is fond of Byron." 

So it is Joe, and not Otto, of whom the Professor disapproves. 
I don't know exactly why, but I do not quite like it. Miss Boylston 
is good and talented, but I suspect she is older than Joe; and then she 
is so calm and self-contained, and he is such a jolly fellow. Still, I 
do not see that their affairs at 
all concern me, or the Professor 
either. 

Myrtle has been taking photo- 
graphs to-day, as we have passed 
a number of picturesque towns 
and ruins. One of the most 
composed looking views, as 
though it were arranged for 
theatrical effect, was the village 
of Berncastel, with its towers 
upon the hill. 

All of these ruins have their legends. That of the Castle of 
Graefinburg, which we saw this morning, is that it was built with an 
archbishop's ransom. The archbishops of Treves were a tyrannical, 
high-handed set of men, who lorded it over all the Moselle valley. 
They subdued the proud lords of Elz so that they were mere retain- 
ers; but the Countess Loretta of Sponheim resisted the episcopal 
sway, and once when the Archbishop of Treves was being rowed 
down the river, she caused the barge to be stopped by a chain 
stretched under the water, and, in the confusion of the moment, her 
men rowed out and took the prelate prisoner. He was treated rev- 
erently, but obliged to pay a heavy ransom. 




- ( -*m& >^VL\i VkWp/ '/%)*p si 



e *f- t ow y 



JOE. 



no 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



Treves. 
We have now reached this pre-historic old city. We go back far 
enough when we know that it was the capital of the Treviri, one of 
the tribes of Gauls which Caesar conquered. The Roman ruins are 
in a remarkably good state of preservation; the finest among them is 
the "Porta Nigra." The Professor, and Otto, and Joe, were soon 
deep in controversy over it; but the Colonel said he cared more for 




^Vv.,. .■■"ft -;p~tf 



CONFIDENCES. 



forts and battle-fields, and manifested very little interest in the fine 
Basilica, the Baths, and the Amphitheatre. 

I think we really enjoyed the cathedral, with its fine shady clois- 
ters, more than these classic remains. We found the "Evil-doer's 
chair," a particularly uncomfortable stone seat, in which malefactors, 
who sought the sanctuary as a place of refuge, were obliged to sit; 
and we were shown a sacred relic, the seamless coat of camel's hair 




BERNCASTEL. 



AN EXPLANATION. II3 

said to have been worn by our Saviour. We spent two days at 
Treves, and would have enjoyed a week. 

Frau Von Engel and Myrtle are more inseparable than ever. 
I saw them together in the Amphitheatre yesterday, apparently in- 
dulging in earnest confidences. I suspect that the secret is out, and 
that they have been talking of Mr. Blumenthal. 

Later. 

I was writing up my journal in the cloisters, and had just penned 
the above sentence when Myrtle entered. " I have been looking for 
you everywhere," she said. "I have just discovered a most remark- 
able coincidence. Max Blumenthal is Frau Von EngePs son!" 

" Indeed," I replied, as innocently as I could; " how very surpris- 
ing!" 

" Is it not? It only shows that the unexpected is what is sure to 
happen. This is how it came about. Frau Von Engel was telling 
me what a good son Otto is, but, in spite of this, that she loved almost 
better her second son, who had disgraced her. ' How disgraced you? ' 
I asked. ' He has persisted in adopting the occupation of an artist, in- 
stead of the career of a soldier.' And then I grew quite warm, and 
told her how much nobler I considered the artist's profession. k He 
brings nature and God's work close to us, if he is a landscapist,' I 
said; 'he makes noble deeds immortal, if he is a historical painter; he 
gives us our loved ones to stay with us, even after they have passed 
to heaven, if he is a portrait painter.' 'But if he is only a realist?' 
she asked; 'if he paints faces just as he finds them, without compo- 
sition, and without imagination?' 

" I do not remember exactly what I replied. I know I astonished 
myself by defending realism. 'How better can he depict character,' 
I asked, 'the consequences of certain courses of living and thought, 
than to copy faces from life, faces scarred by evil deeds, or transfig- 
ured by noble thoughts? It seems to me he becomes a great teacher; 



H4 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



showing us the heaven or hell in each human face, warning, or set- 
ting examples in every picture.' 

" I think Frau Von Engel was very glad to be convinced that she 
has been longing after this favorite son, and regretting her own pride 
and hardness of heart, for she kissed me quite rapturously, and said 
that she would write to him at once that she had changed her views. 
All this time I had no suspicion of whom she was speaking, but after 
this I chanced to mention the picture at Bonn, 'News from the 
Front,' and I described the face of the lady watching the circling 
pigeon, — the sudden dismay and grief with which it was filled. As I 
spoke, the same expression came into Frau Von Engel's. ^Lieber 
Himmell It must be that my son painted it. It was thus that I 
received the news of my widowhood.' Then I had all I could do 
to fan her, for she seemed quite faint. Fortunately, Otto came up 
just then with the lunch-basket, and she refreshed herself with some 
strong coffee. After that, she explained quite volubly how Max had 
renounced the family name temporarily. "'But he shall take it again,' 
she cried; 'this picture has gained it for him. I will send for it and 
for him at once. Liebe fraulein, you will stay and see our family 
rejoicings.' It was with difficulty that I could explain to her the 
impossibility of this, and indeed we must start again on our Rhine 
journey as soon as we return to Coblentz, for I would not meet Mr. 
Blumenthal just now for a great deal." 

So this is the end of the little romance which I had planned. 
One good end, at least, has been accomplished, in the reconciliation of 
mother and son. Myrtle has resigned her purpose of purchasing the 
picture, in favor of Frau Von Engel. We all return to Coblentz to- 
morrow, as we shall not stop en route. The descent of the river can 
be made in about twelve hours. Myrtle is all impatience to be off, 
for Frau Von Engel, instead of writing, has sent her son a telegram 
demanding his instant presence. 




CLOISTER OF CATHEDRAL OF TREVES. 



THE RHINE, FROM COBLENTZ TO RUBESHEIM. Iiy 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE RHINE, FROM COBLENTZ TO RUDESHEIM. AN UNEXPECTED 

MEETING. 

WE are strangers in a strange land once more, for with the 
friendly Von Engels we seemed almost at home. We left 
the rittcrgut yesterday, and are now steaming up the beautiful 
Rhine, our party increased by the addition of Miss Boylston and 
Joe. 

When we parted, the Countess expressed her intention of soon 
returning to her own home in Munich, and gave us all a very urgent 
invitation to visit her there. She described her husband and her 
children. She only waits to see her brother, and will take Professor 
Hammer back with her, as her husband has just written that he has 
obtained a position of kapellmeister for him. It w T ould be a rare 
chance to see something of city life and of high society, but we are 
not likely to profit bv it. Joe is strongly in hopes that I will find an 
opportunity for study at Heidelberg, and if I do I must settle clown 
to it at once. 

Joe is a very useful adjunct for the carrying of the camera, shawl- 
straps, etc., but he draws a line at Myrtle's tulip, and declares, not 
without reason, that loading one's self with potted plants upon a jour- 
ney is a little too absurd. Myrtle tucked it away in the lunch-basket, 
hoping that he would not discover it, but he has threatened that if 
she ever tricks him into carrying it again he will throw it into the 
river. I think Joe is a little cross because Myrtle hurried us away so 
suddenly from the rittergut; he wanted to meet his friend, and de- 
clared that it looked as if we were running away from him, when he 



n8 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 




TOURIST ON THE RHINE 
STEAMER. 



is expected so soon. "I would not hurt BlumenthaPs feelings for the 
world," he said; "he is such a good-hearted fellow. He gave a lec- 
ture at the deaf and dumb asylum the day before he left for Ant- 
werp." Myrtle laughed sarcastically. "A 
lecture to the deaf and dumb!" she re- 
peated. 

"Yes, my dear, a lecture, made up of 
pictures. He drew them as rapidly as 
you could talk, and told all sorts of amus- 
ing stories by one scene following another. 
His audience laughed from beginning t;o 
end, and Max was as delighted as they 
were. 'I have given the poor things one 
happy hour,' he said." 

Myrtle tossed her head scornfully, but 
I noticed that her eyes were kindly. 
We have passed Stolzenfels — "The Castle of the Proud Rock." 
The Rhine from this point on bristles with castles and legends. The 
boat is lying now between the town of Kaub and the island of the 
Pfalz or Pfalz grafenstein, crowned by a queer little many-turreted 
castle, formerly used as a toll-house. 
Louis the Debonair, the son of Charle- 
magne, died here. 

This is really the most picturesque and 
historic part of the Rhine, and it amuses 
me to see how our fellow-passengers re- 
gard it. One grumpy old gentleman sits 
with his back to the scenery, eternally 
reading Baedecker. At the end of the 
trip he will know the name of every ruin, but he will not have seen 
any of them. A very pretty girl, who, I fancy, is an American, and 
who wears the most fascinating hats, at an average three different 





KAUB AND THE PFALZ. 



THE RHINE, FROM COBLENTZ TO RUDESHEIM. 12 I 

ones each day, flirts desperately with a clerical-appearing Heidelberg 
student. 

Joe says he is sure he is a theological student, for that department 
is particularly addicted to pretty girls. "Do they study Byron?" I 
asked, as mischievously as I could; but Joe did not look in the least 
conscious, and Miss Boylston asked quietly, "Joe, who is the author 
of that sentimental bit about Drachenfels, which you always quote to 
every girl of your acquaintance?" 

"That nonsense about the castled crags, 
and the little hand to hold? Murray, I sup- 
pose; at least, I found it in the guide-book." 

We all laughed, and asked Joe how many 
times he had used the quotation. 

"Not often," he replied; "you see Eng- 
lish-speaking girls are rather scarce. I tried 
to translate it for the Countess, but when I 
reached the last line, she gave my hand 

such a grasp that she dislocated several of my metacarpal bones." 
Evidently, Joe was not as personal in his remarks as I supposed. 

"Do be quiet, Joe," said Myrtle, against whom his light mood 
grated. "What sickening hats that girl wears!" she added, a few 
moments later. 

"I do not find them so," I replied. 

"No! when every one has at least three or four slaughtered birds 
on it?" 

"But how pretty and jaunty; and you wear feathers yourself, 
Myrtle." 

"Only ostrich plumes, and, since the times of ostrich-farming, the 
birds are not killed but cared for for their feathers. I would not 
wear that hat with twenty-seven humming-birds on it for an}' amount 
of money. Do you know, I read somewhere that one London dealer 
received a single consignment of thirty-two thousand dead humming- 




122 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

birds, and another, at one time, thirty thousand aquatic birds and three 
hundred thousand pairs of wings. Mr. Gannet wrote a sweet little 
poem about it, and since then I have never worn a bird." 

Myrtle took from her hand-bag a worn newspaper clipping, and 
read with real feeling: — 

Think what a price to pay, 

Faces so bright and gay. 

Just for a hat ! 

Flower unvisited, mornings unsung, 

Sea-ranges bare of the wings that o'er swung, 

Bared just for that ! 

Caught 'mid some mother work, 

Torn by a hunter Turk, 

Just for your hat ! 

Plenty of mother-heart yet in the world, 

All the more wings to tear carefully twirled. 

Women want that ? 

Oh, but the shame of it, 

Oh, but the blame of it, — 

Price of a hat ! 

Just for a jauntiness brightening the street! 

This is your halo, O faces so sweet, — 

Death : and for that ! 

"Victoria studied taxidermy before we went to South America," 
I said, doubtfully, "and father approved of it, and there never was a 
kinder soul than he." 

"That was in the cause of science, and yet I think that in its 
name very many cruel and unnecessary things have been done. I 
have a deep sympathy for every creature capable of suffering." 

There was a look in Myrtle's eyes which seemed to say that this 
sympathy was itself born of suffering. 

The attitude of the Colonel to his daughter is a strange one. 
They are more affectionate, but they do not look each other squarely 
in the face. The Colonel studies Myrtle furtively, and looks away 



THE RHINE, FROM COBLENTZ TO RUDESHEIM. 1 23 

when she glances up. He is continually pressing her with money, 
which she accepts and locks away in a little japanned tin box at the 
bottom of her trunk. "I do not need it now," she explained to me, 
"but it is well to be prepared for unforeseen exigencies. " 

This is so different from her old reckless, bountiful way. Does 
she think that she is a better guardian of the family fortune than her 
father, and it is well for her to keep all that she can lay hands on? 
And does the Colonel think that by this lavish generosity he excuses 
his own expenditures ? It is all very sad and trying. 

We are now at Bacharach, — the funniest old place that ever 
stepped out of theatrical scenery, the walls are so crazy, the roofs 
so steep, the facades of the houses criss-crossed with timbers like the 
lacing of some of the Swiss peasants' stockings. 

Bacharach takes its name from Bacchi ara, altar of Bacchus, and it 
well sustains the name, and Longfellow's recommendation taken from 
the jingle of 1623 : — 

"Zu Klingenberg am Main, 
Zu Wurzburg an dem Stein, 
Zu Bacharach am Rhein, 
Hab' ich in meinen Tagen, 
Gar oftmals horen sagen, 
Soll'n sein die besten Wein." 

The "altar" is a rock in the bed of the river. Pope Pius II. is 
said to have been so fond of Bacharach wine that a tun of it was sent 
him every year. We spent two days at Bacharach, climbing to the 
ruins of the castle of Stahlech on a hill behind the village, and visit- 
ing Werner's Church, fabled to contain the relics of the child Werner, 
falsely said to have been killed by the Jews. This is only one instance 
of the hate which the Germans in past centuries bore the Jews. 

When the great Dresden porcelain works were founded at Meis- 
sen, Miss Boylston says that all Jews of a certain property were 
obliged to buy a quantity of the china pugs and shepherdesses, vases 
and statuettes, whether their taste lay in the way of this sort of brie- 



124 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE, 



a-brac or not. Indeed, their feelings were intentionally outraged, for 
they were obliged also to purchase the boars from the royal chase. 

We read Longfellow's Golden Legend aloud last evening, and 
there was much that reminded us of this region. Especially the old 
monk talking to the wine-casks in the cellar: — 

" Now here is a cask that stands alone. 
It comes from Bacharach on the Rhine, 
Is one of the three best kinds of wine, 
And costs some hundred florins the ohm ; 
But that I do not consider dear, 
When I remember that every year 
Four butts are sent to the Pope of Rome ; 
And whenever thereof a goblet I drain, 
The old rhyme keeps running in my brain : 
At Bacharach on the Rhine, 
At Hochheim on the Main, 
And at Wiirzburg on the Stein, 
Grow the three best kinds of wine. 

See how its currents gleam and shine, 

As if they had caught the purple hues 

Of autumn sunsets on the Rhine, 

Descending and mingling with the dews; 

Or as if the grapes were stained with the blood 

Of the innocent boy who, some years back, 

Was taken and crucified by the Jews, 

In that ancient town of Bacharach ; 

Perdition upon those infidel Jews, 

In that ancient town of Bacharach. 

Here in the midst of the current I stand, 

Like the stone of Pfalz in the midst of the river, 

Taking toll upon either hand, 

And much more grateful to the giver." 

It seems to me that a great deal too much poetry has been wasted 
upon wine. Here, in the land of the grape, I had been told we 
would find less drunkenness than in America. It is not true. We 
have seen quite as much brawling over wine as one is likely to find 




V^ « »nA\ 



THE RHINE, FROM COBLENTZ TO RUDESHEIM. 



I27 




BEGGAR AT BACHARACH. 



from American whiskey. A villanous crone, who held a bawling 
baby and begged at the street, alternately refreshed herself and the 
child from a can of genuine Bach- 
arach wine. 

After leaving Bacharach, we 
passed a succession of castles, and 
just before reaching Bingen, the 
Mouse Tower of Bishop Hatto. 
Southey's poem made such a vivid 
impression of terror upon me, as a 
child, and the vision of the wicked 
bishop pursued to his island castle 
and devoured by the rats has 
always seemed such an awful act 
of retributive justice, that I was 
glad to find the whole legend regarded as mythical. 

The Mausethurm, as it rises from the river, is a gloomy, sinister 
castle, which looks fully capable of enshrining a tragedy or a crime. 
Random lines from the ballad came to my memory; first, the burn- 
ing of the poor peasants enticed into the bishop's barns in the hope 
of receiving some of his grain: — 

" I' faith 'tis an excellent bonfire," quoth he ; 
" And the country is greatly obliged to me 
For ridding it, in these times forlorn, 
Of rats that only consume the corn." 

Then I seemed to hear the bishop's servant crying: — 

"Fly, my lord bishop, fly," quoth he, 

" Ten thousand rats are coming this way ! 

The Lord forgive you for yesterday." 

"I'll go to my tower in the Rhine," replied he, 

" r Tis the safest place in Germany ; 

The walls are high, and the shores are steep, 

And the tide is strong, and the water deep." 



I2( 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



Yes, I said to myself, if I had feared the rats, I think I should 
have thought myself safe there. 

" He laid him down and closed his eyes, 
But soon a scream made him arise. 

The cat sat screaming mad with fear 

At the army of rats that were drawing near; 

And in at the window, and in at the door, 

And through the walls, by thousands they pour; 

From within, from without, from above, from below, 

And all at once, to the bishop they go ; 

They have whetted their teeth against the stones, 

And now they pick the bishop's bones, 

They gnawed the flesh from every limb, 

For they were sent to do judgment on him." 

It is altogether a grewsome story, and I am glad it is not true. 
Joe is making a collection of the legends of the Rhine, and his version 

of them is quite amusing. The black hunters 
and headless horsemen, the stags with crosses 
for antlers, the little gnomes and ghostly maid- 
ens, laughing demons, angelic choirs, enchanted 
knights, and other dramatis personam which he 
manages to weave into his stories, are mystifying 
to an ordinary intellect. He has one chapter de- 
voted to appearances of the Evil One, with the 
bridges, and cliffs, and caves, named for him. 
He gathers his material not only from literature, 
but interrogates all our guides. I hear him chat- 
ting with a little fellow now, who has promised 
to take him to see a certain famous ruined tower. 
"And every midnight there comes thereout a 
flame as high as a church spire." Joe is not at 
all incredulous; he has seen just as strange an appearance in his own 
country (a burning oil-well, presumably), where the evil demon 




AS HIGH AS A CHURCH 
SPIRE. 




RUDESHEIM. 



THE RHINE, FROM COBLENTZ TO RUDESHEIM. 



131 



issued not only at night, but in the day as well. He has engaged 
the slip of a boy to convey him to the dreadful spot. "But hold!" 
he says, "no flame, no money. The demon must get up. his fire- 
works, or I shall consider it a base swindle." 

At Bingen, Joe felt it necessary to allude to the "Soldier of the 
Legion, who lay dying at Algiers." He declaimed: — 

"I dreamed I stood with her, and saw the yellow sunlight shine 
On the vine-clad hills of Bingen, fair Bingen on the Rhine ; 
I saw the blue Rhine sweep along; I heard, or seemed to hear, 
The German songs we used to sing in chorus sweet and clear; 
And her little hand lay lightly — " 

Here we promptly extinguished him, having had quotations 
enough on this topic. Bingen is really a very pretty spot; we spent 
the night here, and in the morning- 
crossed the river to Rudesheim. 

As we approached it, Myrtle 
started and exclaimed, " Look, De- 
light, there is the very castle from 
which the sketch was taken which af- 
fected me so on the ocean steamer." 

Sure enough, here was the very 
battlemented tower which Myrtle had 
declared would have some strange 
influence on her life. " It is only the 
Bromersburg," Joe explained ; " an 
old robber-castle of the thirteenth century. I do not fancy there are 
any of the band lurking within to harm you." 

But Myrtle felt so strongly that she would not go over it, but 
remained with her father at a little inn near the river, while Miss 
Boylston, Joe, and I, made the somewhat windy ascent. The interior 
of the castle was rough in the extreme, the chambers smoke-black- 
ened from great fires which the robbers had built here; but the view 




AT BINGEN ON THE RHINE. 



132 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



from the roof repaid all our trouble. Before us was extended the 
Rheingau, the region from Rudesheim to Mayence, the very Paradise 
of the Rhine. 

The Rhine spreads out here almost into a lake, and is filled with 
innumerable islands and inlets, whose slopes are covered with vine- 
yards, while the summits are crowned with ancient castles and 
modern villas of the German nobility. Skiffs and steam-yachts were 
darting about among the islands, and flags were displayed from the 
villas and the shipping. 

We came down delighted with our view, and at last persuaded 
Myrtle, since she would not enter the castle, at least to walk with us 




AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 

to a little eminence from which the Rheingau was visible. When 
we had almost reached the spot, we saw that it was occupied; a 
young German reclined at full length near the brink of the cliff, and 
was looking away across the lovely landscape. Myrtle caught my 
arm, and would have led me back, but it was too late. Joe bounded 
forward and gave the unconscious tourist a resounding blow on the 
shoulder, whereupon the assaulted man sprang to his feet, and the 
two, instead of proceeding to blows, indulged in a hearty German 
embrace. Of course it was Mr. Blumenthal, who came tow T ard us 
smiling, with a glad light of triumph in his eyes. 

" I have find you," he said, in his queer broken English. " At 
last, I am so happy as to have find you. I am arrived at irry mother's 



AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 1 33 

the day after your departure. I take the cars to St. Goar, you are not 
yet arrive. I wait and wait, you come not; you probably do not stop 
by St. Goar, you are perhaps by Bacharach. I go to Bacharach, you 
make just to depart. I go to Lorch, I find you not. I come to 
Riidesheim, the castle look at me so true, so kind as a friend. It say, 
wait, they will come here; wait, you shall yet find. ' Du solst noch 
einmal sehen.' That is what the river has been singing to me all the 
morning." 

There were genuine tears in his good sentimental eyes. He was 
so thoroughly glad to see us all, so childlike in his confidence that 
we would be glad to see him. And we were glad, every one of us. 
The Colonel took one arm, Miss Boylston, who had known him a 
long time, the other; Joe gambolled about him like an excited dog. 
Myrtle walked a little apart, but she had greeted him with grave 
kindness; her eyes were downcast, but there were pleased little flick- 
ers about the mobile mouth. Yes, Myrtle was glad too. 



134 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE RHEINGAU. MAYENCE. SEVERAL CONVERSATIONS. 

WE have taken a little yacht and boatman, who are to convey 
us along this lovely region as far as Mayence. 

As we sit under the fluttering awning, the conversation is always 
general, and it is only when we pause to visit some ruin that the 
party breaks up into twos and threes, and there is any opportunity for 
confidences. At our first stop to visit the Schloss Johannisberg, it 
happened that Mr. Blumenthal was my escort. He was very inter- 
esting, for he told me the varied history of the castle; how a part of 
the building was a cloister of the Benedictines in 1106, how after- 
ward it belonged to the Prince of Orange, William the Silent of the 
Netherlands, and later Marshal Kellermann received it as the gift of 
Napoleon, while in 1814 it became the property of Prince Von Met- 
ternich. The celebrated Johannisberg vineyards bring the family a 
princely income. 

A pretty woman, picturesquely attired in what seemed to me rather 
a Tyrolese style, was walking on the terrace. She greeted us pleas- 
antly, and gave us permission to pick some flowers. We wondered 
if she were a member of the family; gentle or simple, her manners 
were very sweet and gracious. 

Mr. Blumenthal was not simply a cicerone. While we were view- 
ing the pictures and statuary, he told me much about himself. He 
spoke of how grateful he was to Myrtle for having healed the family 
feud, and made peace for him with his mother. 

" I haf long considered to myself,' 1 he confessed, " what we did 



THE RHEINGAU. 



135 



talk about art, and I know myself now to haf been wrong; we could 
not be such friends as I did ask. She to gif me the inspiration of 
my paintings." 

Ah! thought I, with delight, he is coming round to Myrtle's re- 
quirements. She is not to serve him, but he will serve her; when 
suddenly my gratification was thrown into confusion by his next 
remark. 

"I haf thought it ofer, I could not take her help; I cannot be a 
great painter of history and of imagination. I haf my own work, 
which is more little, but which is mine own; that 
work I must do, and nobody can help me." 

I was startled. How would such independence 
as this strike Myrtle ? For myself, I rather liked it. 
Mr. Blumenthal seemed to me more of a man than 
ever before. Joe and he are very unlike, and yet Joe 
is not so flippant as he seems. We walked back 
from the villa to the boat together, and he said, very 
gravely, "Miss Holmes, you are a very intimate friend 
of my sister, and I presume you know the trouble 
which is weighing on her mind, — her fears about 
father." 

" Yes," I replied. " I have guessed them, and I 
am glad to see that you do not share them." 

" Ah, but I do," he answered, " though I would 
not have her know it for the world. I laugh it off 
with her, and conduct myself generally like a mountebank or a 
court fool, to try to tempt her out of her Castle of Despair. I 
presume now you have given me the credit of being a vapid, brain- 
less apology for a man, but I assure you that I have my pretty serious 
moments, when I wonder what is to be the outcome of all this. 
Still, I believe that we children ought not to be wholly crushed by 
the legacies of past generations. I know that I have escaped the 




THE LADY OF 
THE VILLA. 



136 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



love of gaming, and I try to hearten myself, as well as poor Myrtle, 
by my weak attempts at gayety." 

We spoke of Mr. Blumenthal, and Joe agreed with me that 
Myrtle and he seemed to be drifting apart. He has obtained several 
quiet walks with her, after each of which she has seemed to grow 
more and more serious. 




THE WALK THROUGH THE VINEYARD. 



We are at Mayence now, and I have one more conversation to 
chronicle. We had moored the little craft to attend church one 
Sabbath at a pretty little chapel. Myrtle placed her arm in mine as 
we set out, and the others paired off in various ways. 

" And again we have a picture from the Golden Legend," I 
said, — 




MAYENCE. 



MATENCE. 139 

" The swift and mantling river 
Flows on triumphant through these lovely regions 
As when the vanguard of the Roman legions 
First saw it from the top of yonder hill ! 
How beautiful it is ! Fresh fields of wheat, 
Vineyard, and town, and tower witri fluttering flag, 
The consecrated chapel on the crag, 
And the white hamlet gathered round its base, 
Like Mary sitting at her Saviour's feet, 
And looking up at his beloved face ! " 

But Myrtle did not reply, and, pressing her arm closer, I said, " You 
are looking so very sad that I cannot keep silence. What is the 
matter, Myrtle dear?" 

"The trouble is this,"' she said quietly: "Mr. Blumenthal wishes 
me to marry him." 

" I am sure I do not see anything so very lugubrious in that," I 
replied. " I am sorry he does not appreciate what a help you would 
be in directing his painting, but perhaps you can bring him to under- 
stand." 

" That has nothing to do with the case," Myrtle replied, impa- 
tiently. " I am glad he has found that he can work alone. He 
does not need me for his art, but I believe that he loves me truly, and 
he is so true, so simple-hearted, so noble and good, that it would be 
an honor for any woman to be loved by such a man." 

"Then why do you not accept him?" I asked. "You know you 
love him; your brother is his sworn friend; you like his mother 
and sister, and I think your father approves." 

"You have touched the painful spot," she said, frankly. " My 
father! How can I marry any man and overwhelm him in our 
family ruin? " 

"You fear that your father's fondness for gaming is unconquera- 
ble?" 

" If he could rob me of my dead mother's jewels to pay a gam- 
bling debt!" 



140 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



" You have no proof that he has done so," I replied. 

" I have every proof, and I feel our present disgrace so deeply 
that when it is known to every one I shall not suffer any more. To 
every one but Mr. Blumenthal; I cannot bear to tell him, and yet I 
must, for he insists on knowing why I will not listen to him." 

We entered the church and heard a sermon in German, which 
we could not entirely understand. During its progress some one 
in the choir recognized Miss Boylston and took her up to the 
organ-loft. Presently we saw that she was playing, leading the con- 
gregational singing in that grand old hymn of Luther's which Prince 
Leopold called " God's Dragoon March," " Eine feste Burg ist unser 
Gott." 

Myrtle caught the spirit; she was not comforted or soothed, but 
carried away, as it were, by the swing and spirit of a marching host, 
and was ready to go with them to victory or death. As we walked 
back to the boat together, I said to her, " I can see that you have 
decided to tell him all." 

" No, not to tell him, for then he would feel obliged to protest 
that it made no difference, — to match my confession by a grand unself- 
ishness; but I shall place him in a position where he can see every- 
thing, where he will think that he has discovered it himself, and you 
shall see he will gladly accept the easy retreat which I will offer him. 
As soon as we reach Mayence, father has decided to leave us in the 
city for a day or two, and make a little trip to Wiesbaden alone. I 
shall arrange to have Mr. Blumenthal go with him." 

" But there is no longer any gaming at Wiesbaden," I replied, quite 
puzzled. " The o-overnment has closed all the o-amblino--houses." 

" Of course, there are no public ones; but you may be sure there 
are plenty of private opportunities; and, Delight, I have ascertained a 
bit of information. Mr. Van Bergen is at Wiesbaden. Father re- 
ceived a letter at Bingen. I did not read it, but I saw the postmark, 
and knew the hand." 



SE \ 'ERA L C ON VER SA TIOJVS. 



I 4 I 



"I am glad Mr. Blumenthal is going with your father," I replied; 
"but are you sure that you can manage it?" 

It ended as Myrtle had planned. The Colonel and Mr. Blumen- 
thal went away this morning over the bridge of boats to Castel, on 
the opposite bank of the river, from which point the railroad will 
bring them in twenty minutes to Wiesbaden. 

The rest of us, having the city on our hands, went, as was our 
duty, this morning, to see the cathedral. I think it contains the 
greatest jumble of different styles of 
architecture of any edifice I have ever 
seen. It is remarkable in another way 
also — for its tombs. Like the Cata- 
combs, it is walled and paved with 
them. A great many are of arch- 
bishops. Joe says it must have been 
very distressing to the stone-cutters to 
play a new variation each time on the 
same theme. He thinks it must have 
been almost as trying as to think up a 
new way of writing a valedictory. 
Thorwaldsen's statue of Gutenberg, 
the inventor of printing, who was 
born in Mayence, stands near the 
cathedral. After this we visited a picture-gallery, where several 
students were copying old masters. Joe carried the camera and 
made instantaneous pictures. One of the students was an elderly 
man, with bald head, and spectacles, but his work was very young 
indeed. 

At one church a fee to the sacristan gave permission for Miss 
Boylston to use the organ. Joe pumped, and she gave us the 
Andante from the 5th Symphony, and the Descent of the Holy Grail, 
from " Lohengrin." Then she talked with us of her ideas of sacred 




ART STUDENT NO. I. 



142 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



music, her memories of church choirs and congregational singing in 
America, the greater devotional spirit put into church music in Ger- 
many, and her intention to go back to America soon to try some- 
where to institute a little reform. " I think I can get a position as 
organist in some small church," she said; ."then if I can only im- 
press my choir with a sense that music is worship! When I remem- 
ber the flirtations that I have seen carried on in organ-lofts, between 
the soprano and the tenor, while the alto writes notes on the blank 
leaves of the hymnal, and the whispering and giggling is hardly in- 
termitted during prayer, my very soul is 
sick. The most sublime hymns are rattled 
off with no conception of their meaning. 
The basso sings at a comic opera during 
the week. The organist plays popular 
airs as interludes. The congregation does 
not care : it regards its music as so much 
decoration, like the cheap frescoing spread 
over as much space and with as gaudy 
effect as possible." 

" Do you think congregational singing 
would be better?" Myrtle asked. 

" Far better, provided the organist were 
capable of leading. An organist should 
understand music structurally, its analysis 
and composition, should have capacity for expressing emotion, and a 
knowledge of the powers of the human voice. St. Ann's is a good 
example of tunes adapted for congregational singing, and there are 
many plain songs which run in moderate compass, neither high nor 
low, which have a grand effect when sung by a mixed multitude. I 
must say, however, that I am very partial to children's voices. I 
should form a choir of them, for certain parts of the service. This is 
the end to which I intend to devote my musical studies." 




ART STUDENT NO. 2. 



SE VERAL CONVERSA TIONS. 



H3 



" I thought," said Joe, " that you had already achieved success in 
musical composition, and were going to compose operas." 

" Doubtless, there is a reform 
needed in that direction also," 
said Miss Boylston, with a smile; 
" but at present I think that 
church music is really worse 
than operatic." 

Next morning the Colonel 
and Mr. Blumenthal returned 
from Wiesbaden. I watched 
them anxiously, and was not re- 
assured by their manner. The 
Colonel seemed plunged in pro- 
found gloom. He rarely spoke, 
and it was necessary to address 
him twice to obtain an answer 
to a question. Mr. Blumenthal, 
on the contrary, was more chatty 
than is his wont; he described 
Wiesbaden, and regretted that we had not visited it also. He had 
much to say of the springs, the lovely gardens, the residences of the 
nobility, and, above all, of the lovely children. "Ah!" said he, "we 
saw at the Thiergarten some such heavenly beautiful ones, I greatly 
regretted not fo have brought my sketch-box." 

Not a word did he say, however, of whether any gaming-places 
were open, nor that the Colonel had quite by chance met an old 
friend, a certain Mr. Van Bergen; but for all that, Myrtle, Joe, and I 
were perfectly certain that they had met, and played, and that the 
Colonel had lost heavily. 




LOOKING AT THE ANIMALS. 



i 4 4 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



CHAPTER XL 

HEIDELBERG. BROKEN TOWERS AND UNITED HEARTS. 

I WONDER if there is in all the world a more enchanting spot 
than Heidelberg. The town rises in terraces from the Neckar 
to the Castle, and above the Castle again tower the Geisberg Moun- 
tains. Fascinating walks, or rather climbs, tempt us on every hand ; 
and however beautiful may be the view where you happen to be, you 
are told that one far finer is to be obtained from a point just beyond. 

We took the steamer from Mayence to Manheim, and then turned 
from the Rhine to explore the Neckar for about fifteen miles, when 
this vision of loveliness burst upon us. 

We decided to visit the Castle before the University. If I am to 
be disappointed in my hope of obtaining lessons here, I will put oft" 
the evil day as far as possible, and not lose the sense of proprietor- 
ship which is so pleasant as you explore the ins and outs of a 
charming place which may possibly be your home. We are not a 
gay party just now, but the delicious air, the enchanting scenery, and 
the glorious weather, could not fail to cheer the saddest. 

We found that the town consisted of one main street about three 
miles long. We mounted the hill to the celebrated castle so long 
the residence of the Palatine Elector and Counts who kept in order 
the bandit nobles of the Odenwald and the Neckar, the Counts who 
were little more than highwaymen, the ruins of whose castles crown 
every hill and dominate every pass. Heidelberg Castle is a beautiful 
ruin. It was destroyed by the French in 1688, but the walls still 
stand, with their fine carvings, showing the various styles of the dif- 




HEIDELBERG CASTLE FROM THE TERRACE. 



HEIDELBERG. 



147 



ferent periods in which it was erected. We descended into a cellar 
to see the famous tun, thirty-six feet long and twenty-four feet high, 
with a capacity oi eight hundred hogsheads, a suggestive relic of a 
hard drinking age. Myrtle took several photographs of the imposing 
ruin, and then we visited the better preserved portions and wan- 
dered down the terrace into the garden. I passed Mr. Blumenthal 
as he was leaning on the parapet and looking sadly away toward the 
lovely Neckar, and heard him re- 
peating softly to himself a poem by 
Heine: — 



"Es ist eine alte Geschichte, 

Und geht nichts grosses dabei ; 
Doch wem es eben passiret, 
Dem bricht das Herz entzwei." 

Freely translated, this may sig- 
nify that it's an old story and not 
of much consequence, but his heart 
is breaking. " Yes," I said, " it is 
enough to break one's heart to see 
this magnificent building so wan- 
tonly destroyed." But I knew that 
he was not thinking of the Castle. 

As we returned to the hotel for 
luncheon, we passed by some of 

the buildings of the University, the Anatomical and Zoological Mu- 
seums. Our hotel is very near the Botanical Garden, and I shall 
profit by it for a little study. We saw numbers of the students in the 
streets, some sitting at little tables in the beer-gardens, absorbing vast 
quantities of Rhine wine. Many of them wore society caps, which 
gave them a military appearance, as did the patches and scars which 
told of duelling encounters. I remarked to Joe that they looked 
more like soldiers than students, and he replied: "You will have to 




STUDENTS. 



I48 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

take fencing lessons if you settle here. As soon as it is known that 
you are a student of the University, you will be deluged with chal- 
lenges to duels, and no one will ever believe that you have studied at 
Heidelberg, unless you can show half a dozen sword-cuts, an ear or 
two clipped, a slice off your nose, or a seam across your forehead." 

"I shall pusillanimously decline all my challenges," I laughed; 
and Joe shook his head, declaring I would never do for Heidelberg. 
After luncheon we acted on a suggestion of Myrtle's to make an ex- 
cursion to Neckar-Steinach, and eat a picnic supper in one of the 
old ruined castles, returning on the river by moonlight. We made 
the trip in a little sailboat. From the river, the castle seemed inac- 
cessible on its nearly perpendicular cliff, but our guide led us around 
the point, and we found the ascent not over-difficult. Myrtle easily 
took the lead, leaping from rock to rock like a frisky young chamois, 
often quite out of sight. Mr. Blumenthal was a little piqued that 
she should outstrip him, but he was burdened with the camera and 
the Colonel's telescope, beside being kept back by a desire to be 
polite to Miss Boylston and myself. After a time he left us, and, 
taking a short cut up the face of the cliff, joined Myrtle just as she 
reached the castle wall. This is the highest and oldest ruin in the 
valley; it is called Swallow's-nest, and innumerable black wings were 
fluttering about the high towers, just as at grandfather's homestead, in 
Massachusetts, the swallows settle at sunset into the great chimney. 

I found some harebells and picked them for my herbarium. 

"Do you remember Mrs. Howitt's poem to the Harebell?" Miss 
Boylston asked. I was obliged to confess that I did not, and she 
repeated it for me: — 

The very flower to take 

.Into the heart and make 
The cherished memory of all pleasant places ; 

Name but the light harebell, 

And straight is pictured well 
Where'er of fallen state lie lonely traces. 




ENTRANCE TO HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 



HEIDELBERG. 



W 



Old slopes of pasture ground ; 
, Old fosse, and moat, and mound, 
Where the mailed warrior and crusader came 

Old walls of crumbling stone 

Where trails the snap-dragon ; 
Rise at the speaking of the harebell's name. 

" There is a way- 
side cross," said the 
Colonel, "where the 
mailed warrior and cru- 
sader might appear as 
very suitable adjuncts 
to the landscape." 

" I fancy if they did 
appear," grumbled Joe, 
who was groaning un- 
der the lunch-basket, 
" that we might be in- 
vited to make a longer 
visit . at the dungeon- 
keep, up there, than we 
would care to. They 
were gay old cocks of 
the loft, and extended 
a sort of hospitality to 
tourists like ourselves 
which was hard to re- 
sist." 

When we reached 
the castle, we found 
Myrtle and Mr. Blu- 
menthal deep in conversation; evidently it was nothing of a romantic 
nature, but something of deep and grave importance, for Mr. Blu- 




II. i? '%/ u _. ' ">' 

MAILED WARRIORS. 



V' 



Ii;2 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

menthal looked troubled, and Myrtle was strangely excited; she 
seemed glad, and 3 T et afraid to be glad. She started up and met her 
father, as we approached, with such a keen questioning glance, in 
which hope and love, doubt and self-reproach, were all strangely 
mingled. I could not understand it. I only felt sure that they had 
been talking of the Colonel, and that there were some new develop- 
ments. Myrtle was a little distrait throughout the charming time, for 
all that. Joe built a bonfire in the courtyard, and we gathered about 
it while the coffee boiled and the apples roasted, and told ghost 
stories, and the fairy legends which the Germans love, of the Lore- 
lei and Kobolds and elfin sprites. Even the Colonel contributed his 
part, repeating Bulwer's Song of the Fairies in the ruins of Heidel- 
berg: — 

From the woods and the glossy green 

With the wild thyme strewn ; 
From the river whose crisped sheen 
Is kissed by the trembling moon ; 
While the dwarf looks out from his mountain cave, 

And the erl king from his lair, 
And the water-nymph from her moaning wave, 

We skirr the limber air. 
There's a smile on the vine-clad shore, 

A smile on the castled heights ; 
They dream back the days of yore, 
And they smile at our roundel rites, 
Our roundel rites ! 
Lightly we tread these halls around. 

Lightly tread we ; 
Yet, hark ! we have scared with a single sound 
The moping owl on the breathless tree, 

And the goblin sprites ! 
Ha ! ha ! we have scared with a single sound 
The gray old owl on the breathless tree, 
And the goblin sprites. 

It happened that as the Colonel finished his recitation an owl did 
hoot, whereat we all shrieked or laughed, and the walls echoed the 




'/»' 



;/,,,.v 



,,,,,;,,„„ 



■$« 






■■ 1 i!i:;;'«ni!|l 




; .W 



11111 ii ' S-'wS 



lllliw 






i i l! ' iff 11 ' H 

6w i 

■>;' "'I i i ! ■ . , 'ill in, ,ii i v> . ' 




CASTLE OF NECKAR-STEINACH. 



HEIDELBERG. 



155 



sound quite dismally. The light of our fire must have flared out 
through the loopholes, and perhaps the peasants below thought us 
the phantoms of the old robber counts come back again to light their 
baleful beacons and revel with demoniac laughter in the old halls. 

Myrtle tapped at my door very early the next morning, and asked 
me if I would not like to walk to the terrace before breakfast, and 




HEIDELBERG TERRACE. 



there, looking away over the lovely landscape, she told me what had 
moved her so strongly the evening before. I will give it in her own 
language : — 

" Mr. Blumenthal said that he wished to speak to me for a 
moment, of something which he thought I ought to know, as it con- 
cerned me deeply. I was sure that he meant father's fondness for 
cards, especially as he said that it was something that had come to 
his knowledge at Wiesbaden, and had made him very unhappy. I 



156 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

said to myself: This is just what I expected would happen; he is going 
to tell me that he is very sorry for me, etc., but that he could never 
think of uniting his fortunes with a gambler's daughter. So I steeled 
myself to listen to it, and was trying to think just what I would repl}-, 
when the story took such a different turn from what I had expected, 
that I was struck speechless with astonishment. It seems that on 
the way to Wiesbaden father had confided to Mr. Blumenthal that he 
wished to meet a Mr. Van Bergen on business of a private nature, 
but that he was glad to have Mr. Blumenthal with him, as he wished 
a witness to their interview, and he would rather trust him in a con- 
fidential matter than any one whom he knew. All this was quite as 
I expected; but now comes the remarkable part. When they met 
Mr. Van Bergen, father charged him with having advanced me 
money on my diamond cross, and insisted on his returning the jewels 
at once. Think of it! all this time I had believed that father had 
sold the cross to Mr. Van Bergen, and here was father harborino- the 
same notion in regard to me! Mr. Van Bergen denied the entire 
matter, and demanded the proofs of father's suspicions. These he 
could not give, and they had quite an angry quarrel, which might 
have come to something serious, if Mr. Blumenthal had not separated 
them and got father away. 

"That night father told Mr. Blumenthal the whole story from his 
standpoint. He spoke of the family tendency toward extravagance, 
which he feared I had inherited, of his own passion for play, which he 
averred he had strangled for my sake, declaring that he had not played 
for money since Ave made our compact at Waterloo, and had touched 
cards at all but once at Cologne, where he happened to meet this 
Mr. Van Bergen. He gave me the credit of having kept my part of 
the contract too, until we had seen Mr. Blumenthal's picture at Bonn, 
when, rather than apply for the money which he would willingly have 
given me, he believed I had pawned my cross to Mr. Van Bergen. 
He had been led to think so because Mr. Van Bergen had spoken of 



BROKEN TOWERS AND UNITED HEARTS. 



157 



the jewels at Cologne, and had said that he intended sending me 
some photographs of new ways of setting jewels. All this father 
told Mr. Blumenthal that he ought to know, for it might make a dif- 
ference in his feelings towards me. And the best of it all was, De- 
light, that it had not. Mr. Blumenthal told me all in the gentlest, 
most respectful manner. i I feel sure,' he said, in his broken English, 
6 sure there was some mistake, and so I told your father. I knew 
Miss Boujoulac could not make it possible to deceive. If she had 
wish to sell her jewels, it would be all right, — I have nothing to say to 
that, — but she would not sell in so disprincipled a way.' Then he 
assured father that I never could have cared for a picture of his suffi- 
ciently to have bought it, and that his own mother had purchased the 
picture of which he spoke. ' It is all one horrible mistake,' he said 
again, ' but I beg of you to explain to your father so much of it as 
you can.'" 

"That is it," I interrupted; "all this trouble has come, Myrtle, 
because you have not confided in your father; let there be perfect 
frankness and truth between you, and all will be explained." 

"I don't know about that," Myrtle replied, thoughtfully. " I cer- 
tainly shall talk it all over with father, and we will believe in each 
other; but that will not explain the disappearance of the cross. Mr. 
Blumenthal says that all the servants at the rittergut are irreproach- 
ably honest, and have been in the family for years. He thinks that I 
may have lost it there, and wishes to write his mother to institute a 
thorough search. I asked him to wait until father and I had had our 
confessions. We will have our opportunity to-day. Father, true to 
his military instincts, wishes to inspect a tower which has been 
blown up by a mine. I will go with him, if you will take the rest of 
the party with you to visit the University." 

It was late at night when we reached our hotel, but still later we 
heard bands of strolling students, now by twos and threes, and now 
in a full mannerchor, singing the " Landesvater " and other songs in 



i5» 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



honor of love, wine, their fatherland, or their University. The songs, 
tempered by distance, mingled with our dreams like delightful sere- 
nades, but I could not help wishing that the students were a little 
less rollicking, and more gentlemanly. 

Later. 

It is all over. My dream of studying at Heidelberg is at an end. 

We have called to-day at the house of one of the professors. He 

was absent, and we were entertained by the Frau Professorin and her 

granddaughter, a perkish little maid in a broad hat, who listened 

demurely to our conversation, and 
reflected the varying expressions 
on her grandmother's face, espe- 
cially the blank astonishment 
which greeted my announcement 
of my wish to settle in Heidelberg 
and study at the University. " Gott 
be-wahr!" It was impossible! 
" Mine Fr'dulein student!" it was 
" wunderbar" and " unerhort I '" 
not to say " shrecklich /" 

And yet she was a woman of 
intelligence and some education. 
She had been busy mounting specimens for her husband's herbarium, 
when we entered, labelling them very neatly. I drew her attention 
to this. Oh, yes, she had studied at a convent in Strasburg, and 
her husband had taught her more since they had married. 

u You see," said Joe, as we left, "the only way for you to get in- 
struction is to marry one of these old professors; then it will be all 
right. How shocked the old lady was at your shameful and un- 
maidenly desire to know something about ferns. I really feel morti- 
fied to have been seen in your company." 

I was deeply disappointed, and had it not been for Joe's chaff, I 




THE FRAU PROFESSORIN AND HER 
GRANDDAUGHTER. 




RUINS OF A CASTLE. 



BROKEN TOWERS AND UNITED HEARTS. l6l 

fear I would have broken down and cried. Joe proposed a walk to 
the Wolfsbrunnen and to the Konigstuhl, a height behind the castle, 
from which it is said the Strasburg Cathedral can be seen. The 
walk did me good, though we saw nothing of the famous spires. I 
thought of the words " On every height there lies repose," and was 
calmed and strengthened. 

The Colonel and Myrtle joined us on our return to the hotel. It 
seemed to me that they each looked ten years younger, and I solaced 
myself, in my own chagrin and defeat, by the look of radiant trust 
and happiness in their faces. Nothing was said, however, of the 
confidences which had passed between them, — of doubts confessed 
and faith renewed. Myrtle was silent, and the Colonel talked volubly 
of the broken tower which they had been to see, — a tower about two 
hundred years old when it was blown up; but so firmly was the rock 
cemented that all that war could do was to split it in halves, one mass 
falling on its side, and the other still standing and defying the cen- 
turies to destroy it. 

" That was wonderful cement," said the Colonel. " I wish we 
could invent something like it." 

Ah, I thought, your heart and Myrtle's are cemented together at 
last, so that no dynamite of doubt can ever divide them. 



l6 2 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



CHAPTER XII. 



THE BLACK FOREST. 



WE decided to make the trip from Heidelberg to Strasburg by 
the railroad which runs through the northern portion of the 
Schwarzwald, or Black Forest. 

The villages which we see from the car-windows are very pictur- 
esque; the houses having timbered fronts, and queer galleries and 
balconies. 

Our first stop was, at Carlsruhe, a sufficiently stupid town, named 
from the fact that the Margrave Charles of Baden-Durlach built a 
hunting-lodge here when all around was wilderness and forest. 
Baden we found more interesting. It is the most fashionable water- 
ing-place of Germany, and is sometimes called Baden Baden, to 
imply that here are the Baden, or Baths, par excellence, and to dis- 
tinguish it from other Badens. It is said that at the height of the sea- 
son there are not unfrequently fifty thousand strangers in the place. 
The estimate sounds preposterous, but it is probably correct. We 
visited the Conversationshaus the evening of our arrival, and the next 
morning explored the dungeons under the Castle. These are very ex- 
tensive, and were possibly the judgment-hall, dungeons, and chambers 
of torture of some secret tribunal. We were shown a rusty thumb- 
screw, and dropped some pebbles into an oubliette into which poor 
wretches were thrown. We heard the pebbles bound and rebound 
for nearly a quarter of a minute, and the faint splash which told that 
there was water at the bottom. We were glad to escape from this 
ghastly place into the bright little schnecken-garten, where snails 
were formerly raised for the princely table. 







A VILLAGE IN THE BLACK FOREST. 



l62 



THE BLACK FOREST. 



165 



There are ruins of old Roman baths here, which told that the hot 
springs were known and used in very ancient times. 

Princes of the blood, dukes, and duchesses were dashing about in 
elegant equipages. Mr. Blumenthal found some friends stopping at 
the hotel which he had chosen, among others a Count, a distinguished- 
appearing man, who has been most polite. There is a pretty little 
kiosk at the end of the terrace, and Myrtle and I were carrying our 
journals and letters there this morning, when we noticed that it was 
already occupied. The Count sat with his 
back toward the entrance, holding in his 



hand a pack of cards. He was speaking 
to some one whom we could not see, and 
his words were very clear and distinct. 

" But, Herr Colonel," he said, "a quiet 
little game like this, low stakes, — where's 
the harm ? It passes the time, we are se- 
cure from observation, no one is the wiser." 

Myrtle gasped, and leaned on me 
heavily. I thought she would faint. Poor 
girl, she had been through so much, and 
was so happy at Heidelberg in her ather's 
promises, that now I pitied her. But in 
a moment the Colonel's answer came: — 

" I thank you, Herr Graf, but, even if there were no stakes, I must 
decline your invitation. I have sworn never to touch a card again, 
and by God's help I will keep the resolution." 

Myrtle seized my hand and drew me quickly away. Her father 
had stood as severe a test as could probably be given him, and she 
had now good ground for her confidence. - 

Later in the morning we saw from our window the Colonel seated 
on a garden bench reading the Zeitung. " Is he not noble? " Myrtle 
cried. "Is he not exactly your conception of a hero? How grand 




THE COUNT. 



i66 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



he is! " and, catching up her hat, she hastily joined him. As I looked 
at the Colonel, I could not help smiling; the broad Panama hat bore 
little resemblance to a knightly helmet, and his long, lank legs re- 
minded me of no hero of history unless it were Don Quixote, and 
yet I felt, with Myrtle, that there was something heroic in the man 
who could so conquer himself. He drew Myrtle tenderly to his side, 
and the peasant woman and little girl with her hair braided in two 
tails who sat behind them discreetly withdrew, evidently under the 

impression that here was a 
wedded pair in the early 
part of their honeymoon. I 
think that the consciousness 
that each has wronged the 
other in thought, and that 
they have each been fully 
forgiven, is the deepest 
cause of their grateful hap- 
piness. Some one has said 
that there is no joy which so 
penetrates the depths of the 
soul as that which flows 
from a sense of unmerited 
grace; and this must be the feeling of every one who comes into true 
relations with his Heavenly Father. 

We are now at Oberkirch, a quaint little village where musical 
boxes, and the wood-carvings for which the Black Forest is so cele- 
brated, are made by the peasants. 

We came to Oberkirch in this way. I am especially interested 
in peasants, and, after leaving Baden, in order to see more of them, 
Joe and I rode to the next stopping-place, Achern, in a third-class 
car, and I was greatly amused by the types which presented them- 
selves. They were not all peasants, however. There was one 




THE COLONEL. 



THE BLACK FOREST. 1 67 

grocer's wife and some other small shopkeepers; Joe chatted with 
them for my benefit. When he told the grocer's lady that we were 
Americans, she raised her hands in horror. " And where are your 
other wives? " she asked of Joe. We did not understand the drift 




PEASANT S HOUSE IN THE BLACK FOREST. 

of her remark at first, but it afterwards transpired that a Mormon 
elder had been preaching in her village, and she was under the im- 
pression that all Americans were polygamists. I asked if the elder 
made many converts, and it seemed that he had carried away fifty or 
more. It is astonishing that our government will permit the entrance 
of these poor deluded creatures, who are imported from all parts of 



1 68 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



Europe to feed the great evil, which is spreading itself to our shame 
and peril. 

Achern is interesting only from the quaintness of its houses, and 
for being the point of departure for the ruined Abbey of Allerheili- 
gen, or All Saints. We accordingly hired a sort of omnibus or dili- 
gence, painted like a circus band-wagon, with a postilion to match, 
who smokes a meerschaum pipe and wears a Tyrolese hat, and were 
off by a delightful road between the dark pine-clad hills to the Abbey. 

We were all in such high spirits that no 
one would have recognized us for the de- 
jected party of the Rheingau. Myrtle 
and Mr. Blumenthal have come to a com- 
plete understanding,, and their happiness 
is contagious. There seems to be noth- 



ing in the way of their union, and there 
is to be a formal betrothal, in the old 
German style, at his sister's house at Mu- 
nich, where we are to betake ourselves 
when we have finished our Rhine trip. 
Mr. Blumenthal has written his mother 
begging her to meet us there, and has no 
doubt that she will do so, for a betrothal 
in Germany is a ver}' important event. 
He has also written her about the lost cross, and we hope to hear 
from her at Strasbur£. 

We found Allerheiligen Abbey a little gem; it reminded me of 
an artificial ruin built for effect in a gentleman's garden, it was so 
studiedly graceful; Mr. Blumenthal took out his color-box and made 
a sketch of it, while the postilion rehearsed the legend of its building, 
so fluently as to lead us to suspect that this was possibly the one- 
thousandth repetition. It was founded by an unhappy woman, the 
Duchess Uta Von Schauenberg, whose worthless husband having left 




THE POSTILION. 




RUINS OF THE ABBEY OF ALLERHEILIGEN. 



THE BLACK FOREST. 



171 



her a widow, she, in pure thankfulness, determined to found an abbey. 
For some strange reason, the site of the proposed edifice was left to a 
donkey. The funds were placed in its panniers, and it was allowed 
to roam at will, until, tired of its burden, it rolled upon the ground, 
and, emptying its panniers, plainly showed to the duchess and her 
priestly attendants, who were follow- 
ing, that this was the chosen spot. 

Miss Boylston expressed surprise 
at this proceeding, but Joe insisted 
that it was a delicate compliment on 
the part of the widow to her deceased 
husband. As she could not consult 
him in the matter, she referred the 
choice to a representative resembling 
him as nearly as possible in manners 
and intelligence. 

We were so much pleased with 
what we had seen of the Black Forest 
that we asked the postilion if there 
was not some village where we could 
spend the night, instead of returning 
over the same route to Achern, and 
the man spoke in such terms of Ober- 
kirch that we determined to visit it. 
We arrived late at night, and not a 
little tired of our jaunt. The inn to 
which our postilion brought us was a comfortable one, but we soon 
saw why the rogue was so anxious to bring us around this way. 
He was thinking not so much of our interests as of Dortchen, the 
inn-keeper's pretty barefooted daughter. She reminded us of Au- 
erbach's Barfiissle, and we remembered that Auerbach was born 
in the Black Forest, and that many of his stories of village life were 




DORTCHEN. 



172 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



laid here. Dortchen showed us with pride the cherry-trees at the 
back of the house, and the pots of preserves which she had made 
this season. We have remained here several days, and have had 
no reason to regret our coming. Sunday there was a Gottesdienst, 
or festival, at the village church, and Monday was a Feiertag, or 
market-day, when the peasants gathered in from all the country 
round. We bought a number of souvenirs ; Miss Boylston, a cru- 
cifix carved in wood, and I some boxes of wooden toys, Noah's arks, 
and villages with the funny stiff trees. These had all been carved 
at home, the youngest children shaping the animals and houses, 
and painting the hyenas green and the giraffes pink, according to 
their very original ideas of Zoology. I shall bring these toys 
back with me for some children whom I know in America. Myrtle 
saw a cuckoo-clock which she coveted, but she examined her little 
account-book carefully, and did not buy it. 

These Germans are very industrious and ingenious; some one has 
called them the Yankees of Europe. What vigor and manhood the 
Teutonic race has shown, in fighting first Caesar, then the Pope, and 
lastly the Napoleons! There are stamina here and an honesty of pur- 
pose, with a certain noble simplicity which we, with all our boasted 
refinement, might well cultivate. 

Something a little startling has happened here. Myrtle has devel- 
oped a tendency to sleep-walking, which she possessed when a child, 
but supposed she had entirely outgrown. A long balcony runs out- 
side of our window. It reminded us, when we first saw it, of the one 
at the rittergut, especial!}' as it contained some boxes of flowers. 
Last night I was awakened by Myrtle's opening the window and 
stepping out upon this gallery. It flashed through my mind at once 
that she must be walking in her sleep, and, greatly alarmed, for I had 
no idea what she might do in such a state, I threw a wrapper about 
me and followed her. She walked the length of the gallery, and 
began pulling up the flowers which were planted in the boxes. She 



THE BLACK FOREST. 



1 73 



kept at the work with a good deal of spirit, only stopping when she 
had uprooted every plant; when she turned and walked back to our 
room, passing me with wide-staring eyes. I stopped to replace the 




OBERKIRCH. 



poor plants, and, when I returned to the room, found her sleeping 
quietly. I talked over the occurrence with her this morning, and she 
could scarcely believe that she had returned to the old habit, until the 
earth on her hands convinced her. The strangest part of the freak is 



i74 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



that we cannot think of anything which could have suggested this 
sudden passion for gardening. We were talking, just before we re- 
tired, of the unexplained mystery surrounding the loss of her diamond 
cross. " Perhaps," said Joe, "you fancied you were in Brazil digging 
for diamonds. I hope you will tie yourself to Miss Holmes after 
this every night, as it is not at all pleasant to know that we have a 
somnambulist in the party who may take a fancy that my head is a 
cocoa-nut which needs cracking." 

In spite of Joe's trifling, it is a serious matter. Myrtle thinks that 
she may have had her tulip in mind, which has lately been quite for- 
gotten. She unearthed it from the depths of the lunch-basket, where 
it had been crushed under a jar of Black Forest cherries of Dort- 
chen's preserving, watered it, and placed it in the sun, but I fear it is 
quite dead. 

We leave Oberkirch to-morrow for Strasburg, via the little towns 
of Appenweir and Kehl. Our stay has been in the northern half of 
the Black Forest; after leaving Strasburg, we will traverse the 
southern portion, on our way to Lake Constance. 



STRASBURG. 



J 75 



CHAPTER XIII. 

STRASBURG. WAR MEMORIES. TWO ARCHITECTS. 

MISS BOYLSTON has some friends in Strasburg who are partly 
French, at least in their sympathies. They were formerly 
wealthy, but since the war have become reduced in circumstances, 
and keep a pension, or boarding-house. We wrote to them from 
Baden, and received an answer stating that they would be happy to 
entertain us. 

The family consists of Madame Hautcoeur, and her two daugh- 
ters, Marguerite and Gabrielle. 

Of course the chief object of interest in Strasburg is the Cathe- 
dral, and we were glad to find that the Hautcceurs live almost under 
its shadow. We could hardly wait for luncheon before we sallied 
out to see it. Mademoiselle Marguerite offered to go with us as 
guide. She is a stylish young person, handsome but for a scar on 
her left cheek. She. wears such a high steeple hat that Joe re- 
marked, sotto voce, that he felt sure it was modelled after the tower 
of the Cathedral. 

Marguerite's feeling for the Germans, is very much like the 
Southerner's opinion of the Yankees, and Mr. Blumenthal wisely 
kept himself in the background. Strasburg is fast becoming a 
German city, but there are still many French residents, who cherish 
bitter feelings against their conquerors, and feel that Alsace ought 
to belong to France. Both French and Germans are proud and fond 
of the Cathedral, and rightly so, for it is one of the finest in Europe. 
During the siege, the Germans only once directed their fire toward 



176 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



the Cathedral, and this was because the French commander had 
made the platform a signal station and place of observation. Even 
then, the shells were sent with such precision that they passed di- 
rectly over the platform without scathing the tower. 

The spire is the highest in the world, four hundred and sixty-six 
feet, several feet higher than the great pyramid of Cheops. 




PLATFORM OF STRASBURG CATHEDRAL. 



Its clock is a wonder of mechanism. The hours are struck by a 
figure of Death. In an upper recess stands a statue of Christ, and at 
noon the twelve apostles march out and bow before him. 

We mounted to the platform of the lower tower, where we 
obtained a magnificent view of the city, of the Rhine, and the 
Black Forest. We could trace the water communications of the 
city, which are remarkable, as it is connected "by the Rhine with 
the North Sea; by the Marne and Seine with the English Channel; 
by the Saone and Rhone with the Mediterranean; and by the Louis 
Canal, the Main, and the Danube, with the Black Sea." With these 




STRASBURG CATHEDRAL. 



STRASBURG. 



179 



four outlets for traffic, it is no wonder that it is one of the most 
important commercial centres in the interior of Europe. It is con- 
nected with the four waterways mentioned by the smaller river 111 
and by numerous canals, which make the city a German Venice. 

Queer steep-roofed old houses are built by the sides of the canals, 
with sheds projecting over the water, where the laundresses wash 
their linen. 




A STREET IN STRASBURG. 

After enjoying for a long time the extensive view, and asking a 
few questions of the watchmen who are stationed here to look out 
for fire, we descended to the interior of the Cathedral, which Long- 
fellow describes so well in the Golden Legend. Elsie entering 
exclaims: — 



' ; How very grand it is and wonderful ! 
Never have I beheld a church so splendid ! 
Such columns, and such arches, and such windows, 
So many tombs and statues in the chapels, 
And under them so many confessionals. 
They must be for the rich. I should not like 
To tell my sins in such a church as this. 
Who built it ? " 



l8o THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

Prince Henry replies: — 

" A great master of his craft, 
Erwin von Steinbach ; but not he alone, 
For many generations labored with him. 
Children that came to see these Saints in stone, 
As day by day out of the blocks they rose, 
Grew old and died, and still the work went on, 
And on, and on, and is not yet completed. 
The generation that succeeds our own 
Perhaps may finish it. The architect 
Built his great heart into these sculptured stones, 
And with him toiled his children, and their lives 
Were builded with his own into the walls 
As offerings unto God. You see that statue 
Fixing its joyous but deep wrinkled eyes 
Upon the pillar of the Angels yonder? 
That is the image of the master, carved 
By the fair hand of his own child, Sabina. 

Elsie. 
How beautiful is the column that he looks at 1 

Prince Henry. 
That, too, she sculptured. At the base of it 
Stand the Evangelists ; above their heads 
Four Angels blowing upon marble trumpets, 
And over them the blessed Christ, surrounded 
By his attendant ministers upholding 
The instruments of his Passion." 

We found it all as Longfellow has so beautifully pictured it, and 
I think all our hearts silently cried with Elsie: — 

" O my Lord ! 
Would I could leave behind me upon earth, 
Some monument to thy glory such as this." 

The Cathedral was begun in 1015 by Erwin of Steinbach, the work 
was carried on by his son, and his daughter Sabina, who deserves 
to be remembered as one of the first women who succeeded grandly 
as an architect, and was completed by John Stultz of Cologne in 1601. 



STRASBURG. 



ISI 



The front of the Cathedral is an intricate tracery of lace-work in 

stone. Myrtle said it reminded her of a bride looking through her 

veil. We saw it by daylight with every detail of carving illuminated, 

but I would like also to visit it by moonlight and see the facade as 

Longfellow describes it: — 

" Lo ! with what depth of blackness thrown 
Against the clouds ; far up the skies 
The walls of the Cathedral rise 
Like a mysterious grove of stone. 
The wind is rising ; but the boughs 
Rise not and fall not with the wind, 
That through their foliage sobs and soughs; 
Only the cloudy rack behind, 
Drifting onward, wild and ragged, 
Gives to each spire and buttress jagged 
A seeming motion undefined." 

After viewing the Cathedral, the Col- 
onel expressed a desire to visit the forti- 
fications. " I cannot show them to you," 
said Marguerite, "but we have a neighbor, 
Peter Schnecker, who is a bloodthirsty 
German, and who will delight in explain- 
ing to you all the havoc and destruction 
which his people inflicted on dear old 
Strasburg. We will go back by way of 
his house, and I will ask him to accom- 
pany you." 

Peter Schnecker happened to be lean- 
ing against the palings of his little garden, 
and the steeple hat took a more defiant 
angle as Marguerite descried him. He looked very meek and lamb- 
like, for, though he had never been taught that it is bad manners to 
retain a cigarette and hat in a lady's company, he was evidently im- 
pressed by Marguerite, and dropped his eyes, while his hands fumbled 




MARGUERITE AND PETER 
SCHNECKER. 



182 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



confusedly in his pockets, as if he felt their awkwardness and was 
anxious to get them out of the way. He readily agreed to act as out 
guide for the next day, and we reached the -pension just in time for 
dinner. Here the principal dish was a -pate de foie gras, for which 
the city is so famous. The gentlemen seemed to enjoy it; but the 
thought of the unnatural way in which the poor geese are crammed 

to produce their enormous livers 
quite took away my appetite, and I 
could not taste a morsel. 

Our bedrooms we found chilly 
and uncomfortable, and Ave asked 
Madame Hautcceur if we could 
not have a fire. She informed us 
that a stork had built its nest over 
the chimney. 

" What is to hinder your having 
it removed?" asked Myrtle. 

Madame Hautcceur threw up 
her hands in horror. "Ah! who 
could be so inhuman?" she cried ; 
"besides," she added, in a myste- 
rious whisper, "it would certainly bring misfortune, perhaps death." 
And then she told us how, when the city was burning from the shells 
of the Germans, the storks attempted to coax their young ones from 
their nests; but, finding that they could not fly, the mother birds 
cowered down over their fledgelings, protecting them as long as they 
could from the smoke and flame, and heroically dying with them. 

After this we did not care that our rooms were damp and musty. 
We descended to the cosey sitting-room and spent the evening 
with the family. Madame Hautcceur sat in her easy-chair reading, 
but we prevailed on her to lay aside her book and tell us more about 
the siege of Strasburg. I find that it is a great advantage to hear 




MADAME HAUTCCEUR. 



WAR MEMORIES. 



183 



both sides of the affair, and hitherto, it may be, we have championed 
the German side too unquestioningly. 

The French 
commandant, Gen- 
eral Uhrich, cer- 
tainly exhibited 
great intrepidity. 
Before the invest- 
ment of the city 
the inhabitants of 




:": h: 



the 



surrounding 



w&mD 



li !! 



m 

re 4 1 



,k : p^.:; 



i . .•".■.■ .. . ■■■ . ■ ■ ', .'■ 

■■■■ .'.- ' v , . . ■-"■:■":■■■';. 

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iBfe- . mm 



villages flocked in 
for protection, and 
the General found 
himself with over 
a hundred thou- 
sand people to pro- 
vide for and defend 
against the clench- 
ing German fin- 
gers, with only a 
garrison ol dis- 
heartened, though 
brave soldiers, who 
had already met 
the enemy and had 
been defeated in 
the sanguinary 
battle of Woerth. 
"They were gal- 
lant men," said Madame; "there were four thousand of the National 
Guards, and two thousand of the Gardes Mobiles, some chasseurs and 



tni 







1 84 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



Turcos, and two thousand artillery men; but what were they, with 
all Germany swarming about us? 

" I climbed to the platform of the Cathedral, and the country was 
black with marching armies as far as the eye could reach. 

"The siege began on the 12th of August, and lasted forty days. 
Ah, it was like the forty days' flood when Noah was in the ark, 
for it seemed as if 'the great deep was broken up, and the windows 
of heaven opened'; but the flood was of fire, and the rain was death. 
The citadel was battered to pieces, fires were burning in a dozen 
different quarters of Strasburg at once. Marguerite was at boarding- 
school; a bomb-shell burst in it, killing 
seven girls. Do you see that scar on my 
daughter's cheek? It is where one of the 
fragments of the shell grazed her, — only 
a bit of German gallantry. Those were 
the kisses which German officers threw 
to women. Marguerite fled, terror- 
stricken and bleeding, through the burning" 
streets to her home. • 

" On the 24th, our quarter, the most 
beautiful in the city, containing the Public Library, one. of the richest 
in Europe, the Art Gallery, the Temple Neuf, and the residences of 
the aristocracy, was reduced to a heap of blackened ruins. My hus- 
band was killed in attempting to extinguish the fire; for whenever 
the Germans saw a conflagration in any part of the city, they directed 
their fire to that quarter, to prevent it being suppressed. 

" We took refuge in an old house by the river-side, and hid our- 
selves in the cellar, creeping into the very sewer during the bombard- 
ment; but the rains had swollen the Rhine, and the cellars in that 
part of the town were soon flooded, and we were driven out again. I 
called on General Uhrich personally, and it was, I think, in deference 
to my entreaties that he asked permission of the Germans for the 




GERMAN SOLDIERS. 



WAR MEMORIES. 



I8 5 



women and children to pass out of the city, a request which was 
promptly denied. Then, with crowds of other frantic women, we 




ANCIENT HOUSES BY THE RIVER. 



took refuge in the Cathedral. The good Bishop went out to the 
German lines, and attempted, without success, to arrange an armis- 
tice. The underground telegraphic lines connecting us with Paris 



x 86 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

were cut by a miner, and all news of what was going on in the outside 
world was shut out from us until the Germans themselves sent us 
information of the defeats of Gravelotte and Sedan, of Bazaine shut 
up in Metz, and the Emperor a prisoner. The 30th of September? 
the anniversary of the day in 168 1 when Strasburg was gained from 
Germany by Louis XIV., was the day selected for storming the city. 
But we had suffered enough, and on the 27th General Uhrich com- 
manded the white flag to be hoisted from the topmost spire of the 
Cathedral. Ah! you should have seen the rage of the French sol- 
diers; those who had served in Africa broke and threw away their 
arms rather than surrender them. As for me, I was crazed with 
sorrow, and I cared not whether Strasburg was French or German. 
Three hundred of my townspeople had been killed, and seventeen 
hundred wounded, outside of the soldiers, who expect only death, 
poor fellows, and nearly twenty thousand persons were left homeless 
and destitute. There were scarcely a hundred houses in the city 
uninjured. I am French to my heart's core, but, rather than see 
Strasburg undergo another such siege, I say let her remain German 
to the end of time."* 

We all listened to Madame Hautcceur with the feeling that while 
war exists we can hardly call ourselves civilized. Even the Colonel 
had nothing to say in its defence. The next morning, when Peter 
Schnecker came to guide us over the citadel, we girls were half 
inclined to remain at home, but, persuaded by the Colonel, we finally 
joined the party. The citadel was built by Vauban, under Louis 
XIV., and was supposed to be impregnable. The King caused a 
medal to be struck oft' on the taking of the city, with the inscription 
Clausa Germanis Gallia — "France closed to the Germans." Bis- 
marck seems to have had the same idea of its importance, for he 
called it "the key of the house." 

* Madame Hautcoeur's description is based on Edward King's account of the siege of Strasburg, in 
his "Europe in Storm and Calm." 



TWO ARCHITECTS. 



187 



I remembered the enthusiasm of Violet le Due, the French archi- 
tect for Vauban, and as we viewed the bastions, I tried to remember 
what he had said of scarp and counterscarp. The Colonel, who is 
a great admirer of Vauban, considers him the first military architect 
and engineer of all time. He was a man of immense genius, and, 
what is better, of 
sterling honor. He 
received the baton of 
marshal from Louis 
XIV. after having 
" directed fifty-three 
sieges, constructed 
the fortifications of 
thirty-three places, 
and repaired those 
of three hundred 
towns"; but in spite 
of these distin- 
guished services, he 
was disgraced by his 
sovereign for daring: 
to present a petition 
for the recall of the 
fugitive Huguenots. 

This act of Vau- 
ban was to me the 
noblest of his life; 
aside from it, his work as an engineer, famous as it has made him, 
does not seem to me the best legacy which a man of his genius could 
have left his fellow-men. How strange it seems, now that the old 
castles have become antiquated and useless, that new fortifications 
and engines of war should take their place. Arbitration between 




VAUBAN. 



j 88 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

nations seems as much more dignified than war as a legal process 
between private individuals is more decent than a hand-to-hand fight. 
I could not help comparing the two architects Vauban and Erwin 
von Steinbach, the fortress and the Cathedral: the former, battered 
and crumbling, passing from the earth like the old reign of violence; 
the latter, standing through the havoc of war and time, an emblem of 
the Prince of Peace. 



THE UPPER RHINE. 



189 



CHAPTER XIV. 



THE UPPER RHINE LAKE CONSTANCE. 




HE Tyrol is one of the best locali- 
ties for the collection of delicate 
ferns," said a learned looking gentle- 
man with a high bald head, who sat 
in the same compartment with us in 
the cars on our way from Strasburg to Con- 
stance. " You find the rarest Polypodies 
there, and the holly fern, which grows half under 
the snow." 

I pricked up my ears; here was a fellow-trav- 
eller with kindred tastes, and it was only by a stern contemplation of 
the conventionalities that I restrained myself from joining in the con- 
versation. I hoped that Joe might introduce us, and explain that I too 
was a fern fancier, but the remark was addressed to Mr. Blumenthal, 
and Joe was oblivious, being deeply absorbed in the caricatures of the 
Munchner Bilderbogen. The stranger had a quantity of botanizing 
paraphernalia with him; a portfolio herbarium and press tightly 
strapped, some tin boxes, and sponges (in oil silk bags) in which to 
preserve roots. I watched him with interest, and hoped that a happy 
chance might make us acquainted, but he left the cars at some little 
station, and it was not until after he had gone that Mr. Blumenthal 
informed us that he was a celebrated botanist. 

" Why, you ought to have introduced him to Miss Holmes," said 
Joe, waking up. 



190 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



"A thousand pardon," replied Mr. Blumenthal, "but ladies 
generally rind him to be dull; he can talk of nothing but the fern. 
He has just returned himself from the Hawaiian Islands, where he 
has been for the sole purpose to discover and to collect new varieties. 
Really, I think I deserve to myself great credit that I have absorb 
his conversation. He would otherwise have give a lecture to the 
entire party on the beauties of the Ophioglossum conctmum and 
the Acrosticum Gorgoneum." 

Mr. Blumenthal looked so happy in the consciousness of having 
done a good deed that I kept my disappointment to myself, and did 
not undeceive him. 

Myrtle has also met with a disappointment. Just as we left Stras- 
burg, the expected letter arrived from Frau Von Engel. It con- 
tained the heartiest of rejoicings, and a cordial welcome into the 
family. She will be at Munich to meet us, and had telegraphed the, 
happy news to her daughter, the Countess. She had also made 
thorough investigation, but was sorry to say that no trace could be 
found of the diamond cross. Heinrich, the gardener, was of the 
opinion that it had been carried away by ghosts. He had heard a 
disturbance in the dove-cote on the night that the cross was lost, and 
had gone out to see what was the matter. The moon shone clearly 
and he distinctly saw a white-robed lady glide along the balcony in 
front of our rooms and finally disappear through a window. Frau 
Von Engel had scoffed at the idea, for the appearance of such a spirit 
was a very bad omen, but Heinrich had persisted in his story, and it 
was evident that it had made an impression on the good lady, for she 
inquired anxiously after Myrtle's health, and hoped that she would be 
careful not to venture into dangerous places. Myrtle does not give 
any importance to the apparition, but she is sorry that the cross can- 
not be found, not so much for its own sake as a proof to her father 
that she no longer doubts him. It is a mystery which possibly will 
never be cleared up. 




CITY AND CATHEDRAL OF FREIBURG. 



THE UPPER RHINE. 



1 93 



We are following the course of the upper Rhine, and passing 
through the southern portion of the Black Forest. Madame Hautcceur 
was so kind to us that we felt almost like leaving old friends as the 
train bore us swiftly away from Strasburg. The Cathedral tower was 
silhouetted darkly against a brilliant sunset, and I wondered if it had 
something of the same effect against the burning town during those 
dreadful nights of siege. 

We stopped for the night at the old university town of Freiburg. 
I made no attempt to obtain instruction here, for the university is one 
of the last strongholds of Catholicism, and is probably even more 
conservative than the Protestant universities. 

We had made this break in our journey intending to make an 
excursion by carriage the next day to the Valley of Hell, a narrow 
gorge or canon, down which Moreau made his famous retreat in 
1796. Moreau was the rival of Napoleon; he gained for the French 
the battle of Hohenlinden, and he saved his army from being cut off 
by a retreat which was so skilfully managed that it was equivalent to 
a victory. But we were not destined to see the HSllenpass, for in 
the morning the rain descended in torrents. We took the train again, 
and passing Basle, which looked forlorn and uninviting through the 
veil of rain, paused next at Schaff hausen, just as the storm cleared 
away. The picturesque market-place was washed clean by the rain, 
and, freshly gilded by the sunshine, had a beautiful effect. 

We heard some fine singing here in the evening; selections from the 
" Freischutz," by amateurs. The legend of the Freeshooter probably 
originated in this vicinity, which is a great hunting region. Hunts- 
men even now, if they are so fortunate as to hit their mark six times 
in succession in one day, will not fire for a seventh time, for fear that 
the devil will direct the ball as he pleases. It surprised me to find 
what beautiful voices these sturdy highlanders have. All the musi- 
cians that I happened to know at home were frail, ethereal beings, 
their higher natures developed at the expense of the lower, while the 



194 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 




<h h 



Germans seem to combine the real with the ideal more closely than 
any other nation. I mentioned this to Mr. Blumenthal, and he quoted 
from Auerbach: — 

" Oh beautiful, glorious Germany! This is life! This is our life 
to build up the soul with song, and the body with lusty motion; this 
makes a people strong and beautiful. Everything glorious belongs 
to us as fully as it did to the classical world." 

We have visited the Cathedral, and have seen the great bell, cast 

in 1484, which bears the inscription: — 

Vivos voco. 
Mortuos plango. 
Fulgura frango. 



I call the living. 
I mourn the dead. 
I break the lightnings. 

This inscription is said to have 
given Schiller the idea of his Lied 
von der Glocke. Longfellow also 
makes use of it. 

We drove out to see the falls 
of Schaffhausen, two miles lower 
down the Rhine. The city owes 
its original name, Schiffh'ausen, to 
the warehouses built here to pro- 
tect the goods unloaded from the 
boats, which could go no farther 
down, on account of the falls and 
rapids. Schloss Laufen, above the 
falls, is the spot from which ladies 
but we insisted on going out on the 
Fischetz, a long wooden gallery just below, when we were stunned 
by the noise and blinded by the spray. An old woman who was 
watching some sheep, and at the same time knitting a coarse woollen 
stocking, told us that salmon were caught below the falls and trout 
above. On our return to Schaffhausen, w T e visited the Castle of 







PEASANT KNITTING. 

usually view the cataract 




THE VALLEY OF HELL. 



LAKE CONSTANCE. 1 97 

Unnoth, which is strongly fortified. Its walls rise directly from the 
river, which is overhung by its queer balconies and oriels. It is said 
that it was designed by the painter Albert Diirer; that it is provided 
with bomb-proof casemates, and that its walls are eighteen feet thick, 
but I fear that it would stand a modern siege no better than Vauban's 

citadel at Strasburg. 

Constance. 

Both lake and town are very interesting; but the lake, or Bodensee, 
as the natives call it, interested me most. We have taken several trips 
upon it in the little steamer which plies on its dark green waters. The 
Rhine runs through Lake Constance; the lake may even be consid- 
ered, like the Rheingau, as simply an enlargement of the river. We 
are never tired of looking down into the water, — hunting for nixies, Joe 
says. And, indeed, it seems to us that this would be the best place to 
locate the scene of the Rheingold from Wagner's Nibelung drama. 

Miss Boylston sang snatches from the frolics of the river nymphs, 
as they tease the adventurous mortal who has ventured into their 
element to steal the precious gold which they are set to guard. 

" The wealth of the world 
To him we will fling, 
Who from the Rhinegold, 
Hammers a ring. 

" Who from delight 

His heart can withhold. 
Who in the light 

Of love is cold, 
Whom no bribe can decoy, or charm can lure, 

He shall possess the Rhinegold pure." 

" Then it's yours, my dear," Myrtle said, as Miss Boylston sang 
this. "If the rest of us could only possess your calm unimpressiona- 
bleness, temptations would rebound from our hearts like a shower 
of pebbles from armor of proof." 



198 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



Miss Boylston smiled gravely. " Unimpressionableness is a long 
word," she said, "and it takes almost as long to acquire it as to spell it." 

Miss Boylston is 
really an old maid; I 
wondered whether 
there were not some 
story locked behind her 
impassive demeanor, 
and one day when we 
were rambling amonsf 
the lower ranges of 
Alps on the south of 
the lake, and we were 
separated for a time 
from the rest of the 
party, I asked her. 
" No," she replied, 
quite simply, " there is 
no love story in my 
life. I do not under- 
value Myrtle's happi- 
ness. It must make a 
woman very humble as 
well as proud to be 
honored by a good 
man's love. It is one 
of the blessings which 
have never come to me, 
but my life has been so 
full that I have not 
missed it. I do not see how any one can be unhappy with work to 
do — such work as mine, I mean, to which one can give one's whole 




HOTEL DE VILLE, ULM. 




" — -^3r-_ MINNE. 



MARKET-PLACE AT SCHAFFHAUSEN. 



LAKE CONSTANCE. 201 

soul." We had not noticed that a passing shower was driving swiftly 
in our direction. It overtook us just as we were most absorbed. 
Fortunately there was a goatherd's hut near by, and into it we crept, 
the goatherd obligingly going out into the rain to make us room. He 
spoke a queer Swiss patois, and promised to show us some edelweiss 
after the shower. The others came up after a time; they had been 
protected by waterproofs, and laughed at the rain and at our queer 
shelter; we picnicked in front of the hut, and shared our luncheon 
with the goatherd, who, in return, gave us fresh goat's-milk, which he 
milked into Myrtle's silver mug. 

At the hotels in this region we have been served to chamois, par- 
tridges, hares, venison, and delicious trout. The gentlemen of our 
party have been wild to get a shot at real live chamois, and to catch 
a few trout. They have been on repeated hunting and fishing excur- 
sions without the slightest success. They even secured the little 
goatherd as guide, but the chamois seemed to fly before them. They 
fancied that they had seen one on a lofty crag, but Mr. Blumenthal 
was of the opinion that it was only an adventurous goat, and that ior 
real chamois one must go higher up into the Alps. On their return 
from an unsuccessful fishing excursion, Myrtle greeted them with the 
following jingle, which was loudly applauded: — 

How doth the little speckled trout 

Improve each shining hour, 
And all the students' efforts flout 

To coax them to their power. 

How skilfully they snap the fly 

And leave the naked hook. 
They make the maidens grieve and sigh, 

And disappoint the cook. 

If wives were caught with rod and reel, 

They'd cheat their fishers too. 
For Satan finds some mischief still 

For trout and girls to do ! 



:o2 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



Joe has purchased for himself a handsome alpenstock, tipped 
with the small black horn of a chamois. It is the fashion for Alpine 
tourists to have these staves ornamented with the carved names of 
the mountain-peaks which they have ascended. We saw one literally 
./ covered with names of the 

highest mountains, which 
made us a little suspicious of 
the veracity of its owner. 
Joe, not to be outdone, has 
cut on his the loftiest peaks 
/ of the Andes, Chimborazo, 
Cotopaxi, etc., with Mt. Ev- 
erest and Kunchain-Junga in 
the Himalayas. 

We have crossed the lake 
for the last time, and are now 
on our way to Munich, via 
the ancient city of Augsburg, 
so associated with the Refor- 
mation, with Charles V., with 
the paintings of Holbein, the 
merchant princes of the house 
of Fugger, and with beautiful 
old carvings and iron-work. 
The old Gothic city of Ulm 
is also on our route, and the 
Bavarian human types are, if 
possible, more intensely German than those of the Rhine. This part 
of Bavaria is full of ruined castles. Two hundred and eighty of such 
ruins have been counted. There were turns in the road where we 
could see five at a time. I had been praising the scenery of Amer- 
ica, and had lamented that we had no ruined castles, for in every 




BAVARIAN SKETCHES. 



LAKE CONSTANCE. 



205 



other respect the Hudson would compare favorably with the 
Rhine. 

kt You know Goethe thought you were better off without them," 
Mr. Blumenthal remarked. 

"I did not know that Goethe ever interested himself in America," 
I replied, and Mr. Blumenthal, turning to his note-book, read: — 

" America, du hast es besser 
Als unser Continent, das alte ; 
Hast keine verfallene Schlosser, 
Und keine Basalte. 
Dich stort nicht im Innern, 
Zu lebendiger Zeit, 
Unniitzes Erinnern 
Und vergeblicher Streit. 
Beniitzt die Gegenwart mit Gliick ! 
Und wenn nun Eure Kinder dichten, 
Bewahre sie ein gut Geshick 
Vor Ritter, Raiiber, und Gespenstergeschichten." * 

* Translation: "America, thou art more fortunate than our continent, the old. Thou hast no 
ruined castles and pillars. In thy living age, no useless memories and vain struggles weigh upon thee. 
Use the present wisely, and when thy children shall sing of thee, may good destiny preserve them from 
legends of knights, robbers, and ghosts." 



2o6 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



CHAPTER XV. 



MUNICH. 



AND this is Munich; I sit in a real palace, a tiny one to be sure, 
but still a building which, in its time, has been a veritable 
princely " Residenz" and has been fitted up most charmingly by the 

Countess, with antique furniture and 
bric-a-brac. The best of it is that 
this furniture has not been bought 
at Sypher's, but has been handed 
down from generation to generation, 
for the Count's family is a very an- 
cient one. This ormolu cabinet is 
part of a set given to his great grand- 
father by Frederick the Great. Here 
is a vase that, for aught I know, may 
date from Charlemagne. Those gilt 
sconces are of the time of Louis XIV., 
but the)' are a recent acquisition, for 
all that, for the Count brought them 
back from Paris on his return from 
the little military excursion which 
ended so disastrously for the French. 
There are paintings by Durer and 
in a real palace. Holbein, and gems which have glis- 

tened on the throats of princesses; but the greatest treasures which 
the house holds are, to my mind, the Countess' lovely children. 




MUNICH. 



207 




Adolf is a beautiful, serious boy, with the eyes of a poet; his sister, 

who rejoices in the stately name of Amalie Bertha Charlotte Clau- 

dine, is a tricksy little sprite, with 
such very light hair that her uncle 
has nicknamed her Weissm'duschen, 
or the little white mouse, and so the 
rest of us call her. Frau Von Enorel 
and her eldest son are here with quite 
a retinue, and an apparently intermi- 
nable programme of festivities has 
been arranged to celebrate, not the 
betrothal of Myrtle and Mr. Blumen- 
thal, but their marriage, for the Von 
Engels brought forward so many good 
reasons why this should be, that 
Myrtle and her father have consented. 
The young couple are to live in Munich, and Mr. Blumenthal 

will finish his art studies with Piloty, who, since the death of Kaul- 

bach, is the leading German figure-painter. 

The family are so busy with preparations for 

the wedding, that Miss Boylston and I have 

bested them not to treat us as guests who need 

entertainment, but have instituted a series of 

rambles about the city for our own diversion. 

The Countess has placed a coupe with liveried 

driver at our service, and we enjoy our jaunts 

exceedingly. The Ludwig-Strasse is one of our 

favorite drives, with its beautiful Siegesthor or 

Triumphal Arch. It is built of glistening Carrara W 



ADOLF. 




WEISSMAUSCHEN. 



marble, and surmounted by a noble group in 

bronze, Bavaria, seated in a chariot drawn by lions. This must not 

be confused with the colossal statue of Bavaria, that stands in 



208 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



front of the Hall of Fame, which contains the busts of celebrated 
Bavarians. The great Bavaria is seventy feet high; it is hollow, and 
a staircase leads to the neck, from which point we climbed up an 
iron ladder into the head, and obtained a fine view of the city. It 




TRIUMPHAL ARCH, MUNICH. 

was a warm day, and the sun had heated the bronze so that we could 
scarcely bear to touch it. We felt as if we were shut up in the burn- 
ing fiery furnace of Shadfach, Meshach, and Abednego, or in one of 
the statues in which the victims to Moloch were roasted alive. The 
air was stifling; mounting so many stairs had made me quite giddy, 
and it was all that I could do to scramble down again. 




CASTLE OF UNNOTH. 



MUNICH. 



211 



One afternoon Mr. Blumenthal, whom we must now accustom 
ourselves to call Herr Von Engel, took us to visit the studios of the 
noted modern artists of the Munich school. As a general thing, 
although some of them are very handsome, they are situated in back 




STATUE OF BAVARIA. 



yards and are approached by queer little strassen and courts. We 
ring a bell at a gate and are admitted by a portress into a garden. I 
have not time to describe all that I saw, and can only make a note or 
two to recall to my mind a series of charming visits. Piloty is an 
exceedingly broad man (I do not mean in physical proportions). 
He is best known to Americans by his historical paintings, especially 



212 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

the grand " Germanicus before Caesar." We saw some sketches and 
studies for this work. 

We were also greatly interested in the pictures of Herr Dietz, of 
whom I had never heard; he delights in the representation of horses 
and the old robbers who once inhabited the ruined castles of this 
region. 

We had a charming visit at Wagner's studio. He also enjoys 
horses. He seemed pleased when I told him how much his " Chariot 
Race " was admired, and how widely it had been reproduced, in 
America. He is a Hungarian, and all of his pictures have a dash 
and go which are exhilarating to behold. He showed us a " Hunga- 
rian Turf Race," where the horses seemed to be prancing out of the 
canvas. He has decorated the Munich Museum with scenes from 
the Thirty Years' War. 

Defregger, whose paintings of peasants I have already mentioned, 
has a studio in Munich. Loefts ought to be better known with us 
for his scriptural subjects, executed in the style of Holbein, of whom 
he is a passionate admirer. I was introduced to Professor Raub, who 
teaches engraving in the Munich Academy; he told me that he had 
taught many Americans, and that they were all bright men. Linden 
Schmidt is another of the notable painters of this art-loving city. I 
remember seeing his portrait of Luther in New York before we 
sailed. 

I heard many anecdotes of Kaulbach, the great master, who has 
passed away. He was a genial little man, fond of a quiet joke, 
modest and unobtrusive, though painting in the grandest way. I had 
known him only through a set of photographs, the heroines of Schil- 
ler and Goethe. We went to see his cartoons on the outside of the 
new Pinacothek, — which are unhappily rapidly fading, from the effect 
of the weather, — and another set, in what is called the "English 
Garden," a charming spot near the royal palace, which belonged to 
Count Rumford, the scientist. Here the paintings are protected by 



MUNICH. 



213 



arcades, and are in a better state of preservation. The Pinacothek 
is said to be one of the richest of European picture-galleries. We 
have spent hours studying its masterpieces. The Glyptothek, or 
Gallery of Sculpture, has many beautiful specimens of Greek art. 
One, a " Sleeping Faun " is said to have been hurled at the invading 
Goths as a projectile from the Castle of St. Angelo. 




THE PINACOTHEK. 

The Countess has taken us to a court reception at the new Resi- 
denz. We were presented to the Princess. I think I hardly enjoyed 
the occasion, splendid as it was, so much as a visit which I made 
with little Adolf, through the kindness of the marshal of the house- 
hold, to the royal stables. 

Here we saw horses spirited enough to have pleased Herr Wagner, 
and one of the grooms removed the covers from the sledges in which 



214 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



the king of Bavaria and his suite enjoy sleighing parties in the Bava- 
rian Alps. Some of them were enormous, covered with gilding and 
carved figures, holding the crown-shaped canopies. One was in the 
form of a shell supported by Tritons and Cupids, and others had their 




THE GLYPTOTHEK. 

panels decorated by the best artists. Adolf had taken part in one of 
the sleighing parties; he described the flashing lights, the shadows 
following like the spectral erl-king over the snow. Each sledge had 
its cornet-player, who wound his horn at intervals and set the wild 
echoes flying. 

Adolf and I are great friends. Half of the carved toys which I 



MUNICH. 



215 



purchased in the Black Forest for American children have found 
their wa} T to him and to his little sister. 

The Count, in spite of his ferocious whiskers, is very harmless. 
More than this, he is most kind and thoughtful. Learning of my vain 
quest for instruction, he has written to the great specialist, Professor 
Schwendeuer of Berlin, and has obtained for me admission to his 
classes. Frau Von Engel has friends in Berlin who have agreed to 
take me into their family, so all that is happily settled, and I am to 
begin my studies immediately 
after the wedding. 



The festivities have begun 
with a ball. The greater part of 
the gentlemen were officers; they 
entered the room with their hel- 
mets under their arms, and their 
swords buckled about them. 
These adornments were laid 
aside, however, before the danc- 
ing; began. The german is danced 
here quite differently from the 
manner jn which we had been 
instructed. A little kiosk was trundled into the middle of the ball- 
room. It was labelled " Office for the sale of Lottery Tickets." The 
ladies were informed that they were the prizes, and we each received 
paper decorations. Mine was a cap of silver tissue, shaped like a 
beer tankard. Myrtle had an enormous necklace of paste gems; 
Miss Boylston a huge tissue paper bouquet, and so forth. Then the 
gentlemen received their tickets which allowed them to dance with 
the prize they had drawn. 

Sometimes, we were told, very large set pieces are introduced, 
elephants and giraffes, or other zoological curiosities. For perfect 
abandon and heartiness there is no fun like German fun. 




UNCLE KALBFLEISCH. 



2i6 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

The wedding presents have begun to arrive; some of them very 
expensive, others again are most practical. They range all the way 
from a gold tea-service and set of pearls, presented by a Crown Prin- 
cess and a Grand Duke, to a receipted bill for the plumbing of the 
new home, from a friend in that business, and a fine cow from Uncle 
Kalbfleisch. Frau Von Engel presented the house-linen, all carefully 
marked by her own hand. The Colonel has given his daughter an 
ample allowance, which, whatever the income of the young artist, 
will suffice to keep the wolf from the door. Miss Boylston and I 
have helped arrange the furniture in the pretty suite of apartments. 
We have hung the dainty muslin curtains, and just over Myrtle's 
desk I have placed a cabinet bookcase, with a few choice books by 
American authors, so that she may not forget her native land. 

Miss Boylston's present is a fine music-box, which she purchased 
in the Black Forest, which plays some of her favorite tunes. 

Joe has given his sister an elegantly bound cook-book. On the 
blank leaf he has copied a rhyming skit from one of the American 
newspapers: — 

She'd a great and varied knowledge, absorbed at Vassar College, of quadratics, hydro- 
statics, and pneumatics very vast. 
i 

She was stuffed with erudition as you stuff a leather cushion, all the ologies of the col- 
leges and the knowledges of the past. 

She had studied the old lexicons of Peruvians and Mexicans, their theology, anthro- 
pology, and geology, o'er and o'er. 

She knew all the forms and features of the pre-historic creatures — icythyosaurus, 
plesiosaurus, megalosaurus, and many more. 

She'd describe the ancient Tuscans, and the Basques and the Etruscans, their griddles 
and their kettles and the victuals that they gnawed. 

She'd discuss — the learned charmer — the theology of Bramah, and the scandals of 
the Vandals, and the sandals that they trod. 



MUNICH. 217 

She knew all the mighty giants and the master minds of science, all the learning that 
was turning in the burning mind of man. 

But she couldn't prepare a dinner for a gaunt and hungry sinner, or get up a decent 
supper for her poor voracious papa, for she never was constructed on the old 
domestic plan. 

It is all a libel. Myrtle is really inclined to be very domestic, and 
will easily learn the thrifty German ways. She has already learned 
how to make Goethe's favorite pudding, the Charlotte, a complicated 
affair of blanched almonds, grated chocolate, crushed macaroons, 
rose-water, and I know not what. I think that her ambition was 
stirred, not from the fact that the great author was fond of it, but 
because Frau Von Engel remarked that any one who could achieve 
a Charlotte pudding was equal to anything else in the line of cooking. 
Myrtle made friends with the Countess' chef, made the pudding, and 
when it appeared was rewarded by hearing Frau Von Engel compli- 
ment her daughter on her very superior cook. Little Weissmauschen 
is troubled because she has no present for Myrtle, and her mother is 
so absorbed that she has not time to pay attention to the child's fancy. 
I told her that Myrtle would be more pleased with a few flowers 
from the garden than with a more costly present from a stranger. 

The wedding is over, and with it a train of attendant circumstances 
enough to make the steadiest brain whirl. First, the legal settle- 
ments in regard to property, then the arrival of Myrtle's trousseau 
from Paris, only a few dresses, but all beautifully made and in the 
best of taste. I was her only bridesmaid, for Miss Boylston officiated 
at the organ. The wedding proper was at the English chapel, which 
was beautifully decorated. The Episcopal ceremony never seemed 
to me more impressive. Myrtle was calm and sweetly dignified. 
How very certain one must be of one's own heart to take those 
solemn vows! but there was an infinite trust and confidence in her 



2l8 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

face, and a grave sincerity in that of the bridegroom, which spoke 
well for their future happiness. 

Beside the ceremony at the church, there is also in Germany a 
civil marriage, which must be performed. An old gentleman read 
the legal forms and then discoursed solemnly on the responsibilities 
of matrimony, ending with a beautiful poem. I had expected that 
this part of the ceremony would be very dry, but, to my surprise, my 
eyes were wet. It is only another instance of the way in which the 
Germans blend the practical and the ideal. After the marriage cere- 
mony there was a wedding breakfast, and then the bride and groom 
left us for a tour through Switzerland. 

While we were at table, we heard a light crash on the pavement 
just outside. " Some one has knocked your tulip from the window," 
said Joe. " How thankful your husband ought to be, now that de- 
testable flower-pot will not have to be carried over all the Swiss 
glaciers." Weissmauschen scrambled from her seat, curious to see 
what was broken, and she did not make her appearance until the mo- 
ment of departure. Then, just as Myrtle was entering the carriage, 
the child came down the steps, holding in her hand a fragment of the 
broken flower-pot. " Stop," she cried, " I have a present for my 
little Aunt." Myrtle came back and uttered a low cry of delight, as 
the child handed her, caked with earth, and entwined by roots, the 
lost diamond cross! 

"Your present is best of all," Myrtle exclaimed, and then every 
one fell to chattering, asking questions, and trying to explain its pres- 
ence in the flower-pot. " The thief must have secreted it there," said 
Joe, " and long ago, for see how the tulip-roots have grown around 
it." 

" It is the work of the ghost, the white lady," exclaimed Frau Von 
Engel. 

"You are both right," said Miss Boylston; "but, Myrtle dear, you 
were yourself burglar and spectre!" 



MUNICH. 



219 



"I!" replied Myrtle, in surprise. 

"Not consciously, of course; but do you not remember the sleep- 
walking at Oberkirch, and how you pulled up Dortchen's poor 



posies? " 

" I must have recurred to the idea of my first somnambulistic 
feat," said Myrtle, in a dazed way. 
" How strange that we forget when we 
wake, and remember again when we 
dream ! " 

" Come," said Mr. Blumenthal, " we 
will certainly lose the train." 

The Colonel embraced his daughter 
with a triumphant happiness shining in 
his moist eyes. " I shall have to apolo- 
gize to Mr. Van Bergen," was all he said. 

The Colonel is really going to carry 
out his intention of entering the German 
army. Myrtle and he are completely de- 
Americanized. Not so Joe; he will return 
to Louisiana, to do what he can with the 
paternal " estate, and will then carve a 
future for himself in our own dear coun- 
try. Miss Boylston, too, sails for Amer- 
ica soon. She is absorbed in her mission, 
and as calmly happy, I really believe, as 
Myrtle in her different life. They represent the colors of our Alma 
Mater, the rose and silver-gray. I wonder which is best? If it were 
only possible to braid the tints, and combine a high intellectual 
career with a happy home-life! But this is idle dreaming, and my 
beloved ferns are waiting for me at Berlin. Will any three girls ever 
pass a pleasanter summer than ours upon the Rhine? 




A GIFT FOR THE BRIDE. 



2 20 THREE VASSAR GIRLS GN THE RHINE. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

NUREMBERG. GRIEF AND JOY. 

DELIGHT HOLMES' journal of the doings and happenings of 
Three Vassar Girls on the Rhine ended here. In her student- 
days which followed in Berlin, she was at first too busy to write of 
her experiences, interesting though they were, except in her weekly 
letters to her parents. But there came a day when she found leisure, 
the sad leisure which comes to us when the object of all our toil is 
suddenly removed, and all our ambition and aspiration are suddenly 
dashed to the ground. 

Word came to her that her father, whom she idolized, the old 
Professor for whose sake she had sought to become a learned special- 
ist, who had taken so much pride in her acquirements, and who loved 
her so fondly, had gone to the Source of the Nature which he loved. 

"You need not come home on this account," her mother had 
written. " I shall live with your older brother, and you can still 
devote yourself to your chosen career." 

Delis;ht had never realized before how her father had been the 
mainspring of all her actions. Her chosen career had always been 
to please him. She would not have gone abroad but for this. 
Her only ambition was that her success might make him happy. 
Miss Boylston was self-poised, so rapt in her devotion to music, and 
in her hope of making the music of some church truly devotional in 
its character, that she forgot every one else, and even herself, in her 
noble purpose; but Delight was more affectionate in her nature. 
She had worked, and would always labor, not so much for her own 



NUREMBERG. 



221 



gratification, or for any abstract end, as for directly helping some one 

whom she loved. Now it seemed to her as if she could not live on, 

and study alone, and her life stretched before her dreary and aimless. 

" If I had chosen some 

work that would more 

directly benefit my 

fellow-creatures," she 

said to herself, " then 

I might live on for its 

sake, but I interested 

myself in what father 

cared for, and now 

there is no longer any 

need in my living." 

She would go back 
to America, she de- 
cided, and she found 
time, in the fortnight 
before she sailed for 
home, to dream for a 
little while of the past 
and the future, and to 
wonder what relation 
they might bear each 
other. 

While pursuing her 
scientific studies in 
Berlin, she had fol- 
lowed eagerly every tradition in regard to Alexander Von Humboldt. 
She had been specially interested in him at first at Vassar, from 
hearing^ Professor Maria Mitchell tell of her interview with him, and, 
secondly, from having followed, with her father, a part of his 




THE BRIDE S DOOR, NUREMBERG. 



2 22 THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 

wanderings among the Andes; but she could not remember the time 
when his name was not a household word, and his works were the 
most thoroughly thumbed of any in her father's library. 

Humboldt had lived in Berlin. She visited the rooms where 
Bayard Taylor called upon him, and saw his collection of stuffed 
birds and his library. He had been a professor in the University 
with Neander, Schleiermacher, Schelling, Ritter, and the other cele- 
brated men. The old gentleman at whose house she boarded had 
once been a student of the University, and had attended Humboldt's 
lectures. He hunted up a little book, yellow with age, and read her 
the notes which he had made in the class-room. These familiar talks 
of Humboldt with his students had never been published, or even 
written out by their author. There was one, a description of the 
sea-weed of the Pacific coast of South America, which greatly inter- 
ested Delight, as she had made collections with her father from the 
same waters. Her friend allowed her to translate the notes, and 
expressed his entire willingness for her to use them in any way she 
pleased. She had planned to publish them on her return to America, 
supplemented by the later observations and discoveries of her father, 
and she had often pictured to herself the pleasure he would have, if 
alive, in aiding her in the preparation of this work. 

She had improved her stay in Berlin not alone in research in 
exact science, but had studied German literature, through readings 
with the family with whom she boarded, from Goethe, Schiller, Jean 
Paul, Schlegel, Novalis, Uhland, Heine, and Grimm. But, with all 
her earnestness, she was often lonely, and with the coming of this 
springtime a mighty wave of homesickness and longing lifted her on 
its irresistible, dizzy swell. She determined to run down to Munich 
for a few days and ease her heart with Myrtle before she embarked 
on that other lonely ocean, to meet she knew not what. 

But Myrtle, her husband, and the Countess had all left Munich 
only the day before. Only Weissmauschen was trundling her dolls in 



NUREMBERG. 



223 



the garden, and dropped her small family in happy surprise at seeing 
Delight. The child's prattle was a brief pleasure. She took De- 
light to see the doll of the cook's little 
irl. The cook had been in New York 
and had brought back this doll, which he 
said was a full-blooded American, but 
Weissmauschen had disputed the fact, 
asserting that she had known several 
Americans, and this doll was only a 
woolly-headed African, its hair con- 
structed from a woollen stocking. She 
wanted Delight to refute the libel, and 
to prove that Americans 
were not black. Delight 
X Vffr73522ppr chatted a few moments with 
the children, and then took 
the train again, sadder, if possible, for her visit. 
The servants could not tell her where her 
friends had gone. Miss Boylston had returned 
to America, and in all Europe there seemed 
to be no one to sympathize with her in her 
trouble. She found the trains so arranged that 
it would be more convenient to stop for the night in Nuremberg 
than to go on, and as she had been recommended by her Berlin 
friends to a quiet family in this city who kept boarders, she availed 
herself of the opportunity for visiting the 




WEISSMA-USCHEN AND HER 
FAMILY. 



" Quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint old town of art and song." 

She found a landlady with a kindly heart set in a capacious bosom. 
Something in Delight's sad face touched her sympathies, and she set 
out her bountiful table with even more abundance than usual. 
"When the sad eat," she said to herself, "they are cheered in spite 



224 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



of themselves, and that is the reason we always have a feast after a 
funeral." 

The landlady's husband asked Delight if she had ever read 
Heine's gibe at German cookery. "He was always ridiculing our 
officers and our fare." 

At Delight's request he repeated the poem: — 

The table was spread, and here I 

found 
The real old German cooking. 
I greet thee dear old sauer-kraut, 
With thy delicate perfume smoking. 

Mother's stuffed chestnuts in cabbage 

green, 
They set my heart in a flutter ; 
Codfish of my country, I greet ye 

fine, 
As ye cunningly swim in your butter. 

AN AMERICAN DOLL. 

How the sausages swelled in sputtering fat, 
And field-fares, small angels pious, 
All roasted and swaddled in apple sauce, 
Twittered out to me, " Try us ! " 

A goose, a quiet and genial soul, 
Was on the table extended ; 
Perhaps she loved me once, in the days 
Before our youth was ended. 

She threw at me such a meaning look, 
So trustful, tender, and pensive ; 
Her soul was beautiful, but her meat — 
Was tough, I'm apprehensive. 

On a pewter plate a pig's head they brought ; 
And you know, in the German nation, 
It's the snouts of the pigs they always select 
For a laurel decoration. 





NUREMBERG MARKET-PLACE. 



NUREMBER G. 227 

But the girl's heart was too sore for her to even force a smile, and 
the well-meaning man concluded that he must have made a blunder? 
that Delight had military friends, and resented the insinuation at the 
close of the poem. 

The landlady proposed that her daughter Katchen should show 
Delight the points of interest on the morrow. She gratefully as- 
sented, and, retiring to the neat little chamber, tried to shut out 
the sad thoughts which were numbing heart and brain, by telling 
over to herself all she had read and heard of Nuremberg. Again 
she was sure that Longfellow had best summed up its attractions: — 

In the valley of the Pegnitz, where across broad meadow lands 
Rise the blue Franconian mountains, Nuremberg the ancient stands. 

Everywhere I see around me rise the wondrous world of Art ; 
Fountains wrought with richest sculpture standing in the common mart. 

In the church of sainted Lawrence stands a pix of sculpture rare, 
Like the foamy sheaf of fountains rising through the painted air. 

Here, when Art was still religion, with a simple, reverent heart, 
Lived and labored Albrecht Diirer, the Evangelist of Art. 

Here Hans Sachs, the cobbler-poet, laureate of the gentle craft, 
Wisest of the Twelve Wise Masters, in huge folios sang and laughed. 

But his house is now an ale-house, with a nicely sanded floor, 
And a garland in the window, and his face above the door. 

Not thy Councils, not thy Kaisers, win for thee the world's regard ; 
But thy painter, Albrecht Diirer, and Hans Sachs, thy cobbler-bard. 

Even with this foretelling of what was to come, when the morning 
came, Delight was in no mood for sight-seeing, but she had a con- 
scientious feeling that she might some day regret it if she turned her 
back on the masterpieces of art which have made the city famous. 
Her landlady's daughter, a black-eyed girl, stood holding her round 



228 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



hat, waiting to show her about the town, and she choked back the 
lump in her throat, roused herself from her melancholy, and followed 
her guide out into the sunshine. She had no thought of diversion, 
but the moment that she stepped outside the house and wandered 
down the crooked streets overhung with pointed gables and sharply 
peaked roofs, it seemed to her that she had gone away from herself, 
and was walking somewhere in the 17th centur} 7 . Here was Albert 
Durer's house, looking homelike and no older than its 
neighbors, and here was the home of Hans Sachs, the 
cobbler-poet. It seemed to her that she might meet 
either of them at the turn of the next corner. She 
stood long before the Beautiful Fountain, with its forest 
of hammered iron tracery flaming up into Gothic pinna- 
cles, and curling into tendrils and leafage, until it 
seemed as if the iron had blossomed. They visited 
the church of St. Sebald, and later she strayed into the 
church of St. Lorenz. Here she followed her guide 
from altar to altar, but when she reached the won- 
derful pyx of Adam Kraft, — a casket chiselled from 
white sandstone to contain the sacrament, — she sent 
away the talkative girl. "I would rather stay and 
study it alone," she said, and, sitting alone in the solemn 
building with this wonder of beauty before her, she 
felt that good Adam Kraft, as he labored, must have 
really believed that he was building a shrine for the Divine Pres- 
ence, a house which Christ would truly inhabit, and for a time she 
forgot her own sorrow in the contemplation of this marvellous result 
of his great patience. Bayard Taylor has best described this beau- 
tiful work, and I quote his description: — 

"This pyx stands beside one of the pillars of the chancel, and 
spires upward, like a fountain, under the arch, to the height of more 
than sixty feet. The house containing the vessels is imbedded in an 




THE LANDLADY'S 
DAUGHTER. 



NUREMBERG. 



229 



arbor of vines, forming 
leafy grottos, with 
niches in which stand 
statues of the Apostles. 
The Gothic pinnacles, 
which shoot up through 
this canopy of foliage, 
bud into leafy orna- 
ments at their tops, and 
bend over and wave 
downwards like vines 
swinging in the air. 
Upwards, still dimin- 
ishing, rises the airy 
tracery of the spire, 
with spray-like needles 
leaping from every 
angle, till at the sum- 
mit the frail stem 
curves like a flower- 
stalk, and hangs in the 
air a last tendril over 
the wonderful arbor 
out of which it grew. 
Grand Adam Kraft ! 
glorious old master! 
God grant that this 
beautiful creation some- 
times consoled the bit- 
terness of thy desti- 
tute and neglected old 
age." 




THE CHOJR OF ST. SEBALD. 



23° 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



Bayard Taylor tells us further how Kraft, "with his apprentice 
and journeyman, made it in five years, and received therefor not quite 
three hundred dollars; how the people had no faith in his work, but 
believed he had a secret method of softening stone and casting 
it into moulds; and how it was afterward proved to be really 
chiselled." 

A great calm came into Delight's soul. If this man could labor 
on through misapprehension and scorn, with none to appreciate or 
sympathize, could not she also struggle to make of herself a sacred 
pyx, a shrine for the Lord, in which he would condescend to dwell. 
She was lifted above her loneliness with the sense of divine compan- 
ionship. Christ would come and live within her, and she would never 
more be alone. She would go on with her study, for it was worthy 
work, and if her father could know of her life, he would be glad 
that she was so occupied, but she would not grieve for him rebel- 
liously, or feel herself desolate and deserted. The Roman Catholic 
dogma of the Real Presence was true in this higher sense. Christ 
might not be in the consecrated wafer within the beautiful pyx, but 

he, who, 

" Within no walls confined, 
Inhabiteth the humble mind," 

would dwell with her and within her, making the temple worthy of 
his presence. 

It was a day never to be forgotten, and she went back to Berlin, 
ready to take up the burden of life again bravely and cheerfully, be- 
cause trustfully. She found, too, that she was not so forsaken of all 
human comfort as she had supposed. Before leaving Nuremberg, 
she visited the old castle which crowns a precipice overhanging the 
city. The beautiful panorama of picturesque roofs stretched from 
her feet away to the misty mountains. The castle moat lay far below 
her feet, and the walls, massive and high, towered around her. A 
little poem of Klaus Groth's came to her mind, and she sang the first 





■P 







RAMPARTS OF NUREMBERG. 



GRIEF AND JOT. 233 

verse, believing herself to be quite alone, for the landlady's daughter 
had stopped to gossip with the janitress: — 

" No ditch is so deep, and no wall is so high, 
If two love each other, they'll meet by and by." 

What a false little jingle it was! There was some one whom she 
loved, and who, she had fancied, loved her, but a wall of distance as 
impenetrable as these granite blocks, and a gulf of misunderstanding 
as deep as the moat, separated them. But even as this thought 
passed through her mind, a voice below her caught up the melody, 
and answered: — 

" There is surely a ladder, a step, or a stile. 

If two love each other, they'll meet ere long while." 

It was Joe who came leaping up the narrow path, and in the next 
instant was listening to all the sad story of her grief and the miracle 
of consolation which had come to her in the old church. 

Joe listened reverently. " Myrtle wrote me of your father's 
death," Joe said. " Here is her letter. ' Now is the time,' she writes, 
' for her friends to fly to her assistance. We leave for Berlin this 
afternoon.'" 

" Then Myrtle and I must have crossed each other," Delight said, 
" and she is probably in Berlin, waiting for me." 

" Yes, and I came too, but when half way my heart failed, and I 
turned off to see Nuremberg. It seemed to me that you could never 
care for my comfort, and that, at a time like this, my presence would 
be an intrusion." 

What Delight replied we need not tell. The greatest joy of her 
life came to her, consecrated by her grief, and Joe himself was 
sobered and changed by the experience. It was no slight thing to 
offer himself as in some sort a substitute for the faithful father, a sup- 
porter and protector of this loving, trusting girl. But his soul ex- 



234 



THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE. 



pandect with the thought. Please God, he wou|d not prove a broken 
reed, and his life, too, should be a consecration. They joined the 
Boujoulacs, and a little later another and a quieter wedding was 
celebrated, followed by a remarkable wedding-tour. Through the 
influence of the Count, the young couple were invited to join an ex- 
pedition for deep-sea soundings in Southern seas. Joe was given 
employment in mechanical parts of the service, for which his educa- 
tion had fitted him, and Delight would have the classifying of the 
sea-weed brought up by the steam-dredger. 

Her father's field of observation, and even Humboldt's, was 
meagre compared to the one which now stretched before her. There 
was another scientific lady, the wife of the Captain, in the party, who 
would be glad of her company. It seemed to her too good to be 
true; her mother sent a cheerful sanction; if only her father could 
have lived to see her life so doubly crowned with love and oppor- 
tunity, the best of life! 

"The best of life, did you say?" said Professor Hammer, the old 
Kapellmeister, " well, perhaps, for your age, you estimate it right. It 
makes a difference at what time of life we consider that question." 

Later, Professor Hammer wrote a little poem, which he handed 
Delight. It ran as follows: — 

WHAT'S BEST IN LIFE? 

What's best in life, gay-hearted girl ? 
Why, beauty, youth, this ring and pearl, 
Which tell of some one's love for me, 
And love I'm sure all must agree 
Is best of life. 

What's best of life, O busy brain ? 
The sense of power to strive and gain ; 
And Inspiration's joyous thrill, 
And work a balm for every ill, 
Work's best in life. 



GRIEF AND JOY. 235 

What's best in life, wise heart and true ? 
We learn it late — the good we do ; 
Old wrongs made right, hearts healed that break, 
The unknown act for Christ's dear sake, 
Are best of life. 

What's best in life, O silver hair ? 
You've tasted all its joy and care, 
Is 't work for others or for self, 
Or love or fame, or mirth or pelf, 
What's best in life ? 

The happiest hour of all the day 
Is when you press your couch, and say, 
Work's done, now welcome rest, good night, 
So Death, who kindly shuts the light, 
Is best of life. 

Was it a strange marriage poem? Death and Love had come to 
Delight hand in hand, and in our mingled life they are never far 
separated. Happiest are they who in their day of joy can calmly 
contemplate dark days, knowing that Divine Love, once invited as 
guest, will never leave them nor forsake them, and, though the begin- 
ning be bright, more glorious will be — 



The End. 



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